


Yours and Mine

by SilverThunder



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Sarumi Fest 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4340897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverThunder/pseuds/SilverThunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was no question in Yata's mind that he and Fushimi would be together forever... but it was nice to make it official, right?</p><p>(written for Sarumi Fest 2015)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beforehand

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my lovely beta, [misarumi](http://misarumi.tumblr.com), who I discussed a lot of this content with before I started writing it and who has helped me enormously with fine-tuning everything. You are amazing and awesome!
> 
> I'd intended to finish this whole thing in time for Sarumi Fest this year, but I didn't manage to make it, so I've split it into three chapters instead. I'll hopefully have the second one out for Yata's birthday next week, and the third shortly after. ^^

**proposal**

Timing was important, Yata had decided. You just couldn't rush the big things. It required patience. Careful planning. Easing into it. And then, once you had all that stuff figured out and had dropped hints and gauged reactions... then the question had to be asked in a confident, cool way.

That was why his food was currently getting cold on the plate in front of him as he watched his boyfriend delicately pick over his own plate. He needed to find a good way to start this.

_Timing. Patience. Easing._

Saruhiko moved his chopsticks as if to pick up another piece of meat, and then carefully lowered them until they were nearly parallel with his plate. He clicked his tongue. "Why are you sitting there scowling at me?"

"Eh?" Yata blinked, caught off-guard. As he met that cool-eyed, unimpressed gaze, irritation set in. "I'm not scowling at you!"

Without bothering to answer that, Saruhiko reached into the pocket of his work pants, pulled out his PDA, and snapped a picture. Then he turned the device around so that the screen pointed at Yata and his own face frowned back at him from the small viewing area. "What do you call that?"

Yata felt his eyebrows come down and looked up from the PDA to his boyfriend's face. "I'm fucking scowling  _now_ , you bastard! Did you have to do that?"

"Who knows." The response was typically airy; Saruhiko unhurriedly tucked the PDA back into his pocket. "It's better than sitting here putting on a show for you while I try to eat."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He slouched back in his seat, shooting a last glare across the table as he reached for his chopsticks. "I wasn't scowling at you."

"If you say so."

Silence fell between them again, punctuated only by the soft 'ch' Yata let out as he turned to his plate and then the sound of chewing and swallowing.

_Easing into it, right?_  He considered that, slowly gathering bite-sized mouthfuls and eating half-heartedly. The food was lukewarm now. Maybe he should just innocently bring up the topic. Make it about someone else, like 'Y'know, Kamamoto was thinking of doing it - what do you think of that?' Or casual and offhand, like 'Hey, I happened to overhear these people talking about it, so I thought I'd bring it up.'

Plenty of options, really.

_All right._  Yata straightened in his seat, momentarily gathering himself.  _I'm gonna do this._  "So," he started - and his mind went completely blank. "Uh..."

Saruhiko had lowered his chopsticks again, looking up at Yata expectantly. He still wore his work shirt, without the jacket and with the vest undone, and even with the wariness in his gaze, he looked comfortable. At home, even.

Well... this  _was_  their home, but sometimes it really struck Yata just how much they'd built between them after everything. They were together now. Closer than ever. Completely open and comfortable - well, mostly. Like a - a family. A tiny, aggressive, two-person family.

Really, he just wanted to make that official.

So, when his mind blanked and then Saruhiko just  _looked_  at him like that... All the reminders flooded in to stir up the feelings that had prompted this whole thing to begin with, and Yata found himself blurting out, "I want to get married!"

The silence that fell after those words escaped was almost electric.

Saruhiko blinked at him, clearly startled, and Yata found himself frozen, too anxious to even breathe as he waited for some reaction. As the stillness and the quiet stretched out, though, he couldn't hold it in any more. "That is - I mean - fuck, I just - "

_Damnit..._  It definitely wasn't how he'd planned to ask.  _That was so uncool..._

"Ah," Saruhiko said after a few seconds, interrupting the stream of stammered half-excuses. He blinked twice more in rapid succession, as if he still didn't quite believe the situation was real, and then frowned. "Why?"

The unexpected question was enough to snap him back from the edge of panic. Yata blinked, staring at his boyfriend. "Hah?" He frowned back, raising an eyebrow. "What d'you mean 'why'? The same reasons anyone wants to!"

If anything, Saruhiko looked less impressed; his frown deepened and his eyes narrowed. "What reasons would those be?"

_Is he for real?_  Yata felt his brow furrow. Sometimes it was hard to tell when Saruhiko was just trying to jerk him around. "Are you actually serious right now? You don't know why people decide to get married?"

It was the wrong question to ask; he could see it almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Saruhiko's expression seemed to shutter into cool withdrawal. His mouth set and he turned his gaze away almost sullenly. "Why should I know a useless thing like that?"

A sudden, vivid memory of his first - and only - trip into that large, empty house that seemed to lack any kind of sign that a family lived there flashed back into Yata's head, and whatever frustration he might've instinctively responded with dissolved in an instant. He swallowed, studying his boyfriend's profile, and then took in a breath. "Because... because they love each other, and want to be together for life. That's why."

Saruhiko glanced back up at him warily. "You don't need to get married for that."

It would've been easy to miss the play of emotion in that hooded gaze, but Yata had gotten back into the habit in the two years they'd been dating - not to mention the months of rebuilding their friendship prior to that. He straightened a bit, feeling a small burst of hope with that response.  _He's thinking about it..._  "Yeah, but getting married means you make a vow to that person, right? It's a way to say you're really serious about each other."

"It's not the only way." Saruhiko was facing him again fully, eyes intent, as if waiting for something specific. "It's not like we need something like that to be serious."

"Yeah, but... well, you know." It was kind of embarrassing to say it all, but he was going to have to if he wanted this to go anywhere. Yata scratched the back of his head, letting out a sharp breath before continuing. "Don't you think it'd be nice to make it totally clear to everyone? That you're mine and I'm yours, and we're gonna be together for life?"

He caught the slight waver in those eyes, just before Saruhiko clicked his tongue and turned his gaze aside. "I guess it would be handy to have the hospital visitation rights," he muttered, "in case you do something stupid and get yourself hurt."

The little ball of anxiety that had been forming in Yata's stomach broke apart at that; he felt a wave of giddy relief rush all the way through him, and couldn't help but grin, elated. "So then that's a 'yes', right?"

Saruhiko's mouth twitched, and two spots of color rose on his cheeks. "You don't need to repeat the obvious, idiot."

Somehow, that irritable response brought on a warm surge of affection.  _Can't help it with this guy, huh?_  Yata felt his smile widen, watching across the table for a moment, and then abruptly pushed himself up.

It earned him a slightly suspicious look, especially as he walked around the table and stopped beside his boyfriend's -  _fiance's_  - chair. "What are you doing?"

"We gotta seal the deal, right?" It felt a bit awkward to just lean down - with the height difference, usually it was the other way around, and the position was a bit off - so Yata braced a hand on Saruhiko's shoulder and bent to tilt his head meaningfully.

He was gratified when the kiss was met partway, the warm, familiar feel of Saruhiko's lips against his easing the remains of his anxiety. When he pulled back and opened his eyes, their gazes locked and he felt closer than ever. "Thank you," he managed, feelings welling up in a pleasant ache at the back of his throat and making it difficult to talk, "Saruhiko."

_We're seriously getting married._  After everything they'd been through... Somehow, just the thought had his heart pounding and his eyes prickling.  _The two of us. Together._  It was almost unreal - but it was really happening.

The corners of Saruhiko's mouth edged up into a smirk. "Don't tell me you're going to cry, Misaki."

"Shut up!" It came out suspiciously gruff; Yata instinctively scrubbed a hand along the corners of his eyes, trying to recover his pride. "I should be fucking crying, anyway - I'm gonna be stuck with you from now on."

"You were the one who said you wanted to be together for life," Saruhiko reminded him, lowering his lids in that teasing manner that at some point during their years of dating had started to cause hot shudders to run down Yata's spine. "Shouldn't you be a bit more honest, Misaki?"

He scowled back half-heartedly. "I don't want to hear that from you."

Saruhiko hummed lightly, and he let his lashes veil his eyes with deliberate slowness. "How about I show you how honest I can be?" He plucked Yata's hand from his shoulder and brought it to his mouth, palm facing inward. "Misaki," he murmured, lips brushing the sensitive skin even as hot breath washed over it.

It suddenly felt very warm. Yata swallowed, staring at his boyfriend. "You're... you're done eating?"

He could feel the smirk widening; when Saruhiko raised his lashes, his gaze was wicked. "That depends," he drawled, pushing out his seat and turning his legs so that they were facing each other, "what's on the menu tonight."

The heat that had been climbing up along Yata's neck rose up to his face at that - which was probably exactly what Saruhiko had been going for, the bastard. "I'll - I'll fucking eat you first, jerk," he muttered, cursing himself for being so easily affected.

"If you say so." The hand was lowered, and that smirk was aimed up at him again. "I'll believe it when I see it, Mi~sa~ki..."

The urge to kiss that look off of his face was a little too strong to resist. "Shut up," Yata growled, leaning down to once again capture those lips with his.

Everything else could wait for later.

 

**sentiment**

The apartment they shared wasn't large, but it did have a bedroom rather than just being one open space with an attached unit bath, which was something Fushimi appreciated when he needed space to himself. Misaki was almost never in the bedroom unless he was getting changed or sleeping, so Fushimi kept his laptop in there and retreated whenever he wanted time alone.

There had been times, back in the beginning as they were re-learning how to live with each other, when they'd fought and then gone to bed tense and angry, backs facing each other and breathing painfully audible in the uneasy silence. It wasn't like their Homra days, when Fushimi could climb up to his loft and distance himself physically. The shared bed was a firm reminder of how much things had changed, and exactly what the cost was if they couldn't resolve their differences.

_Well... I guess it couldn't be helped, after everything._  Fushimi sat down on the side of the bed, eyeing the little table next to it with its worn drawer. There were painful things in their history that couldn't ever be erased. All the talking in the world didn't stop Misaki's fingers from trembling when they brushed over the scar on Fushimi's chest. And there were times when Misaki's thoughtless enthusiasm drove him right out of the apartment because he couldn't even stand to look at the most important person in his life for one second more.

Somehow, those fleeting moments of anxiety and pain made even the mediocre times in their lives feel precious. These days, they made sure not to go to bed angry.

_Another step forward, huh?_

Speaking of which... Fushimi reached out for the handle on the drawer in front of him, hesitating for just a second before clicking his tongue and pulling it open. The small box they'd brought back with them earlier that day was still sitting in the same spot.

He hadn't exactly expected it to be somewhere else, but... Well, it didn't matter. Fushimi glanced back at the doorway - he could still hear Misaki in the kitchen making dinner, but it didn't hurt to be careful - before lifting the box and bringing it forward so that he could open the lid for a better look at the contents.

The two plain rings they'd picked out seemed to wink back at him as the light reflected off the smooth silver surfaces. They were plated white gold, nothing terribly expensive, but the simple design was something they'd both been able to agree on. No ridiculous decorations, no inscriptions, and no overpriced metals. Just a very simple, very basic set of tokens with no real meaning attached.

It shouldn't have been something to dwell on at all.

Misaki's words still sounded clear in his head:  _"you're mine and I'm yours, and we're gonna be together for life"_. Fushimi ran a finger delicately over the band that was his. It was slightly smaller than the one belonging to Misaki, whose fingers were wider despite his hands being shorter than Fushimi's. He'd tried it on a total of once, to make sure the size was right, and hadn't so much as glanced at it since.

Well, until now.

_This is just to get a closer look._  He was going to be wearing it every day in the future, so it made sense to get familiar with the idea.

Somehow, that thought was strangely satisfying.  _Every day._  An insignificant little token, but...

Fushimi pulled the ring from its slot in the box, holding it between his finger and thumb gingerly as he turned it around. It had been polished until it gleamed, but that would change, in time. As he wore it, it would be exposed to every speck of dirt and every germ his hand came into contact with. The surface would grow dull, and it wouldn't catch the light with such stark perfection - but...

_"I want to get married!"_

... This was still going to be the symbol of his most precious person's desire to be with him forever.

The reality of that still felt like it hadn't quite sunk in, even now, but the doubts were mostly silent. Fushimi suppressed a little rush of cautious pleasure at the thought.  _It's not like I didn't know already._  He turned the ring over, sliding one finger along the smooth curve of it almost absently.

"Heeeeh. What's this?" Misaki's voice startled him out of his reverie; when he jerked his gaze up, his boyfriend was smirking at him from the doorway, arms crossed and looking insufferably smug. "I thought you didn't care about this wedding stuff, huh?"

_How annoying._  He felt warmth rising on across his cheeks and turned his gaze away, clicking his tongue.

"What, nothing to say?" Misaki crossed the room with confident steps, and the bed shifted as he sank down next to Fushimi, leaning in to bump their shoulders together. "I totally didn't guess you'd get all sentimental over this crap, y'know, Saruhiko..."

Fushimi scowled, still not looking at him. "Shut up," he mumbled, irritated with himself for being careless. If he hadn't let himself get so distracted, Misaki wouldn't have been able to sneak up on him in the first place.

"Huh? Why should I? Not like it's a bad thing, right?" Misaki plucked the box from his hand; when Fushimi glanced up at him again, warily, he grinned back. "You should've just gone ahead and put it on. Here." He pulled his own ring out, set the box in his lap, and slid it right onto his finger without hesitation, beaming down at it with obvious pleasure. "See? Being excited about it is no big deal."

There was a sort of appeal in seeing it like that, on Misaki's finger.  _I'm yours and you're mine._  Fushimi's throat felt strangely thick.  _And we'll be together for life._

For life.

All at once, it was easier to breathe. "I'm not the one collecting color swatches," he pointed out lightly, and allowed himself a small smile as Misaki turned to him with a scowl.

_I think it'll be a life worth living._

 

**family**

In between visits, Yata sometimes found himself forgetting all the little details of his family's home. The feeling of being crammed in due to the small amount of space and sheer pile-up of _stuff_  owned by the four people who still lived there. The smell of home cooking and air freshener mingling together. The still, stuffy air that hung around even in the cooler weather.

... Minoru being at  _least_  three inches taller than him at seventeen years old.

_I definitely don't fucking remember THAT being a thing..._

Still, after a moment of surprise, his younger brother's face brightened. "Onii-chan!"

He actually sounded like an adult, too, which was disconcerting. Yata managed a small, rueful smile. "Yo, Minoru."

"And Saru's here, too, huh?" Minoru grinned, tossing out the familiar nickname from his childhood casually. He turned as he stepped aside to let them in and yelled out, "Mom! Onii-chan and Saru are here!"

"Really?" The familiar voice hit Yata's ears just seconds before his mother came into view, hastily wiping her hands on the apron around her waist. She broke into a wide smile when she saw him and rushed forward to envelop him in a hug, as if he was still a kid. "Misaki! This is a surprise!"

"Yeah." Right, he probably should've called first. Yata patted her back, feeling a bit awkward about it. "Uh, sorry."

"Oh, it's fine! I'm happy to see you!" She pulled back, holding him at arms' length, and gave him a critical look. "You really should visit like this more often. It feels like we never see you!"

Somehow, even as an adult her scoldings made him squirm. "Right, yeah, sorry. Been busy. You know..."

"Oh, Saruhiko-kun!" His mother was already bustling past him; when he turned, she was pulling a very stiff-looking Saruhiko into a hug. "It's so nice to see you - Misaki almost never brings you around for visits, it's such a shame... Come on in and sit down - I'll get some tea going. Do you like barley?"

Saruhiko's eyes rose and met Yata's, and he had to fight to hold back a grin at the unspoken 'what am I supposed to do now?' in them.  _You're still not used to that, huh?_  "Barley's good, Mom."

"Oh, good." She released Saruhiko, giving him a last, warm smile, and moved past Yata again. "Just go ahead and sit down in the family room, you two," drifted back after her as she re-entered the kitchen.

Minoru trailed after her. "Is there any more cake, Mom?"

"You just had some less than an hour ago! And we'll be having dinner soon, too!"

"I'm still hungry..."

"Honestly, Minoru - you're like a bottomless pit these days! Where are you putting it all?"

The sound of their voices was pretty nostalgic. Yata grinned to himself, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of the entranceway before turning back to his fiance again. "Shoulda seen your expression - you looked like you were gonna shit bricks or something."

Saruhiko shot him an irritated look, removing his shoes carefully. "Shut up," he mumbled. "Your family is always like this."

"What, awesome?" Yata moved on ahead of him, into the tiny family room. It was the same as always - the tatami floors and tiny round table - with light and cool air streaming in through the open window. He and Minoru had shared it on their futons at night, back in the day. "I know."

"More like... a natural disaster," Saruhiko murmured, folding down beside him cross-legged on the tatami. Even just the motion was nostalgic. Like home.

He missed this place, sometimes...

"Yeah, yeah." Yata poked his fiance in the side. "To a bastard like you who hates everyone, maybe."

There wasn't really a chance for Saruhiko to respond, because Yata's mother strode into the room right at that moment, carrying a tray with the steaming teapot and cups. Megumi trailed after her, a skinny 13-year-old with her hair pulled back from her face with clips, carrying two small plates with cake on them. Her face noticeably reddened when she caught sight of Saruhiko.

That reaction had started about a year back, and Yata hadn't decided if it was more amusing or annoying.

_Seriously, don't fall for a guy like this._

"Sorry for the wait!" his mother apologized cheerfully, dropping to her knees and setting the tray down on the table beside them. She began to organize the cups with a comfortable ease. "Do you want one of the bigger cups, Saruhiko-kun?"

"No thanks."

"I'll have one," Minoru chimed in, wedging past Megumi, who seemed to want to just hover awkwardly in the doorway with her plates. He was casually eating a piece of cake from his fingers.

"Don't speak with your mouth full," his mother chided him, and offered a forbidding frown. "And get a  _plate_ , Minoru; honestly, are you a child? Megumi, don't stand in the doorway - come on in and give your brother and Saruhiko-kun their cake."

Megumi gave a nervous little jolt, stepping into the room stiffly as Minoru let out an aggravated huff and went off in the opposite direction. She came up to about a foot away from Saruhiko and abruptly bowed her head forward, thrusting both plates of cake towards him. "H-Here!" she squeaked.

_You have gotta be fucking kidding me..._

Saruhiko stared dubiously at the plates, and then glanced back at Yata, raising an eyebrow as if to ask 'what the heck is this?'

_Ah, shit, whatever..._  "Thanks, Megumi!" He reached over Saruhiko and took both plates, grinning back at his sister's chagrinned face as if he hadn't noticed anything out of place, and offered one to his fiance. "Looks great, right, Saruhiko?"

The plate was taken from him almost warily. "It's fine."

Yata's mother had just finished pouring the tea; she set the pot down and smiled up at them. "Let me know if you want anything else - we've also got cookies, if you'd prefer."

"Nah, it's okay." Really, it was about time he got around to what he'd come here for. There was no point in waiting for his step-father, either, since his work hours were sometimes late. Yata cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little nervous. His family knew all about their relationship, of course, but still... "Anyway, I - uh,  _we_ , I guess - wanted to tell you something."

"Oh?" His mother looked up at him with a keen interest. Her gaze drifted to Saruhiko and then back to him; she sat back with an air of expectancy. "What is it?"

"Eh, well..." Now that it came down to it, this was kind of embarrassing. Yata straightened as much as he could, hoping to project some confidence. "Saruhiko and I, we're - uh - we're - that is - we - "

" - are getting married," Saruhiko finished for him, in a straight tone that was almost deadpan. When Yata jerked his gaze in that direction, his fiance was deliberately looking away from all of them. "What?" he muttered. "If I hadn't said it, we'd be waiting all night for you."

Yata's mother sucked in a sharp breath, and all of Yata's nerves returned as he turned to look at her again. Her eyes had gone wide. Behind her, Minoru was hovering in the doorway, one cheek bulging as he'd stopped in mid-chew. Yata was aware of Megumi fidgeting beside Saruhiko but couldn't see her face from that angle for a reaction. Really, what was more important was...

"You two!" His mother's face split into a teary smile; all at once, she was leaning across the table and wrapping an arm around each of them, pulling their faces down onto her shoulders. "Getting married!" She sniffed loudly, her hold tightening. "This is wonderful! I'm so happy for you!"

Yata wasn't sure if relief or discomfort was stronger - he was glad that she was happy, of course, but the position was really awkward... "O-Oi, Mom..."

She pulled back, beaming at them again with her eyes noticeably wet. "I forgot to say it - but congratulations, of course! Have you set a date?"

He traded a quick glance with Saruhiko. They'd sort of talked about it, but... "N-Not yet. We're thinking maybe summer...?"

"Oh, that soon?" She blinked, a little taken aback. "A wedding in just a few months?"

Yata rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. "It's not... gonna be anything big. Like, do the official stuff really quick, have some drinks... maybe food or cake or something, I dunno..."

"Oh, Misaki..." His mother shook her head at him, letting out a little sigh. She was still smiling, but it looked almost pitying. "We'll talk, all right? Oh. Unless..." She turned a questioning expression on his fiance. "Saruhiko-kun, does your mother know yet?"

Yata noticed the tension working its way into Saruhiko's shoulders at that, although his face remained impassive. He was quiet for one brief but noticeable second and then answered, "No. I'm not in contact with her."

The shift in the mood was so obvious that Yata thought he could choke on it. But, somehow, his mother seemed to know just how to deal with it. "Oh, I'm sorry - that's too bad." She reached out to pat Saruhiko's shoulder kindly. "Well, you can consider our family yours from now on, of course."

The expression on Saruhiko's face seemed to be a mix of surprise and perplexity. "... Yeah," he answered after a moment, slow and cautious.

Something in Yata's chest grew warm at that; he couldn't help but smile a little to himself. This was the person he was marrying, and they would be each other's family. He wanted to give Saruhiko everything - all the things he hadn't had before.

_I really fucking love this guy, seriously..._

"Oh! You two are staying for dinner, right?" His mother held up her PDA to check the time. "I still have quite a bit to do, but you can relax here for as long as you want - you'll be the guests of honor." She rose quickly to her feet, still smiling brightly at them. "Plus, your father will want to hear the news when he gets home..."

It was kind of predictable that she'd offer. Yata nodded back, letting the smile on his own face widen into a grin. "Yeah, of course!"

"Good!" She quickly turned to move back into the kitchen. "Minoru, set two extra places, please!"

"Okay!" Yata's younger brother turned to grin back at him, holding up his fingers in a 'V' shape. "Onii-chan, congrats!"

The reactions so far were as good as he'd been hoping for. "Thanks!"

Megumi leaned in to put her elbows on the table as Minoru left the room. Her expression was slightly awed; she glanced from Yata to Saruhiko and back again, blinking slowly, and asked in a small voice, "Are you really going to get married?"

"That's right." He softened his smile a little.

The shyness from before seemed to have dissipated a little; there was a sparkle in her eyes as she stared at them. "Will one of you wear the dress?"

Yata choked a little at that. "Ha - what - ?"

"He will," Saruhiko answered without inflection, picking up his teacup and raising it to his lips.

"The  _fuck_?" Yata turned to scowl at him, feeling his ears grow hot. "Like hell I will!"

"Misaki!" his mother's voice called back, sharply. "Language!"

_Shit._  With one final glare for his fiance, Yata drew in a breath and faced his sister, who was watching him with wide eyes. "Neither one of us is wearing a dress, okay?"

Her shoulders sagged. "Oh..."

Saruhiko lowered the cup, glancing sideways with a little smirk on his lips. "Are you really going to disappoint your sister like that, Misaki?"

Yata glowered at him. "Shut up," he muttered, darkly.  _Don't even fucking joke, you bastard!_  Turning back to Megumi again, he added, "Anyway, you can just wear one yourself, right?"

She seemed to brighten a little at that. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." Whatever kept her away from that stupid idea.

"Megumi!" his mother's voice called, before anything else could be added. "Come and wash the rice for me!"

Yata waited until his sister had left the room before fixing his fiance with a disgruntled stare. "Asshole."

"You're the one who wants to marry me," Saruhiko pointed out, meeting his eyes with unruffled ease.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Yata let out a huff of breath, and then sobered up a bit as he remembered the moment from earlier. "Hey..." He studied his fiance's face seriously, watching for some kind of reaction. "Is it really okay? To not tell your mother, I mean?"

Saruhiko frowned, abruptly turning his gaze down to the cup in his hands. It was almost possible to see a slight waver in his eyes, but Yata wasn't really sure if he was imagining it or not. "There's no way she'd come."

When he was like this, it was kind of hard to read him. Yata shifted just a bit closer, so their shoulders almost touched.  _Either way, we're doing it. Either way, I'll be your family, so you can just think about yourself._  "Would you want her to?"

Saruhiko was quiet for what seemed like a long moment, staring fixedly down at the cup. His cake was still sitting in front of him, untouched. Then, finally, he tilted his head back a ways, shut his eyes, and let out a breath. When he turned to meet Yata's gaze, his expression was almost tired. "I wouldn't."

Without hesitating, Yata reached out to cover Saruhiko's hand with his, managing a small smile. "Okay."

That hung in the air between them for a second, and then Saruhiko slowly turned his hand so that their fingers could lace together.

Neither one of them spoke again until they were joined in the room, but the silence didn't feel oppressive at all.

 

**invitations**

It was going to be too much of a pain to just bring it up, Fushimi decided, frowning down at the reminder on his PDA. He'd end up having to go up and talk to each person, make some sort of small talk, and bring up the question. And then, of course, they'd want to  _discuss_  it, because god forbid a conversation end within a reasonable amount of time.

He was getting tired just thinking about it.

_It doesn't matter how I do it, though..._  In the end, the result was the same. Fushimi brought up Scepter 4's private messaging system and began to draft his message.  _This is the easiest way._

Hopefully, most people would just reply to the message with a simple 'yes' or 'no' rather than pestering him.

"Fushimi." Awashima's stern voice cut into his thoughts as he finished typing. "What are you doing?"

He looked up from the PDA as she strode across the room to his station, and clicked his tongue.  _What timing..._  "Sending a message."

Her expression was disapproving - surprise, surprise - but she didn't comment. "If you're free, I need you to take on some of the reports from last week's arrests."

Wonderful. Fushimi frowned back at her. "Is there some reason the team who handled it can't finish them?"

"Several of them are still recovering with injuries." She braced her hands on her hips, offering a long-suffering look - as if the question were some kind of bother to her. "The only person cleared for duty right now seems to be a bit overwhelmed by the workload."

_Can't be helped, then._  It was still irritating, though. Fushimi clicked his tongue again. "All right." Turning back to the message, he gave it a quick scan and then hit the 'send' button. "Put them on my desk and I'll go through them."

"I'll have someone - " She paused, reaching into her pocket in response to the buzz from her PDA. Her eyebrows furrowed when she opened it - and then went up. When she looked up again, her expression was startled. "Fushimi... you..."

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Fushimi-san!" Hidaka stood up, walking towards them with a smile on his face. "Congratulations!"

"Whoa! You're seriously getting married?" Doumyouji chimed in, turning in his seat to goggle at him. "Like, for real?"

"Why didn't you say anything, Fushimi-san?"

"Congratulations!"

"I'll definitely make it!"

"July 7th... Wow, that's soon!"

"Tanabata wedding, too - lucky!"

"Fushimi-san, that's awesome!"

The unexpected burst of activity had him staring around the room, nonplussed.  _What? Is everyone here seriously just that bored?_  Fushimi clicked his tongue a third time. "Haven't any of you heard of the reply function on your messages?" he muttered.

There was a brief pause following that, and then the door behind them abruptly opened. "Fushimi-kun." Munakata stepped inside, smiling magnanimously. "Congratulations on your forthcoming nuptials."

_What is he up to now?_  Fushimi's frown deepened. "Thanks..."

The Blue King looked around at the others, who were now standing in an uncomfortably silent cluster. "I see everyone has come to offer best wishes in the general spirit of things," he observed, nodding to himself. "As expected, the bonds of a close-knit team are strong, indeed."

There was a lengthy, awkward pause.

_This is pointless._  Fushimi cleared his throat. "I have a lot of work to do, so - "

"Of course, don't let me keep you." Munakata waved a generous hand. "However," he added, pushing his glasses up on his face elegantly, "I thought it might be prudent as your commanding officer to extend the offer of standing up with you during your upcoming cere - "

"No thank you," Fushimi cut him off.

Munakata gracefully brushed that abrupt rejection off. "As you wish. I'll let you get back to your duties, then." He turned as if to move towards the door, and then paused. "Also, if you're looking for someone to officiate - "

" _No thank you_."

 

**happiness**

"Getting married, huh?" Chitose rubbed his chin as if in thought, then grinned. "About time."

"Hah? What's that supposed to mean?" Yata crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

"It's his way of saying 'congratulations, we all knew it was coming'," Dewa murmured, from his seat at the bar. He offered a small smile. "Also, congratulations. We all knew it was coming."

"Yeah, congrats, Yata-san!"

"Finally, right?"

"Congrats, or something..."

"Awesome news!"

It would've been hard to keep the grin off his face even if he'd wanted to. Yata felt the rush of warmth building in his chest with every boisterous congratulations and every hand thumping his back in a good-natured way. "Thanks!" He uncrossed his arms, straightening up with a certain amount of pride and confidence. "You're all coming then, right?"

"Of course, Yata-san!" Kamamoto clapped his shoulder again, with enthusiasm. "When is it?"

"Oh. Right." He'd kind of forgotten to mention that, hadn't he? "July 7th."

"Wow, that soon huh?"

"That is pretty soon..."

"July 7th?" Kusanagi suddenly cut into the conversation. He set down the glass he'd been wiping, looking a bit surprised. "Tanabata?"

Yata forced himself to keep meeting that gaze, trying for a casual shrug. He wasn't sure if it was quite successful. "Yeah, that's just kind of how it turned out. Not a big deal, right?"

"Ah, well." His older friend seemed to recover a bit, offering a small, almost rueful smile, as if he'd guessed the intent. "Some people believe that Tanabata is a lucky day for a wedding. Something like 'couples who marry on that day will surely become happy'."

It felt like he was trying to swallow around some kind of lump. "R-Really?" Yata forced a huff of a laugh. "How about that, huh?"

He wasn't sure if Saruhiko would know; if so, he hadn't said anything about it. Anyway, he'd probably think a belief like that was stupid. And, well, yeah, it was pretty stupid. It was just something Yata happened to have found out, really. Plus, it wasn't like he chose the date for that particular reason. It was a mix of their birthdays, and that was it.

_It's not like we need something like that to be happy._

Just... if there happened to be some good luck... after everything that had happened between them, it couldn't hurt.

"Good for you, right, Yata-san?" Kamamoto said jovially, and that seemed to ease the tension a bit.

"Y-Yeah. Right?" He managed a grin, looking around at the rest of them. "I guess I'm pretty good at picking dates!"

Kusanagi shrugged at him, good-natured as always, and everyone else seemed to take that as a cue to move on from the subject. Yata was just starting to relax when a light touch at his shoulder made him freeze.

"Misaki," Anna began, gazing into his eyes from almost directly in front of him.  _Almost_. She wasn't as tall as he was yet, but it was starting to get a bit concerning. And, despite the fact that her face had narrowed and matured a bit over the past few years, those eyes of hers were the same: the kind of eyes that saw straight into your soul and observed without judging.

It was enough to make him feel like he'd been caught doing something wrong, at the moment. "Wh-What is it, Anna?"

"You don't need to worry so much." She smiled back, softening the serious expression just slightly. "A good luck charm isn't needed for you and Saruhiko to be happy together. Both of your hearts want it."

He blinked at her.  _Both of our hearts..._  It was a truth he'd become certain of, but somehow hearing it - and especially from Anna - felt really good. The tension in his shoulders eased; he couldn't help but smile back, that rush of happiness from the moment when Saruhiko had accepted his proposal seeming to wash back over him. "I know. But" - he reached up to rub at the back of his neck, a little awkwardly - "thanks."

She nodded back, and her expression turned serious again. "Make sure you have a bamboo to hang everyone's wishes on."

The smile on Yata's face shifted naturally to a grin.  _Yeah, I think I can handle that much._  "Leave it to me!"

 

**colors**

**Yata Misaki:**  hey what do you think of swatch #53?

**Yata Misaki:**  for wedding?

**Yata Misaki:**  + white?

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Swatch #53 is just red.

**Yata Misaki:**  yeah so?

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  ...

**Yata Misaki:**  what's wrong with red?

**Yata Misaki:**  you pickin a fight or something?

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  This isn't a Homra party.

**Yata Misaki:**  wtf does that have to do with anything???

**Yata Misaki:**  fine you fucking pick something

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Swatch #32.

**Yata Misaki:**  THAT'S FUCKING BLUE YOU ASSHOLE!!!

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Oh? And what's wrong with blue, Misaki?

**Yata Misaki:**  fuck you so hard fuc k

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Pick something else, then.

**Yata Misaki:**  FUCKING FINE

**Yata Misaki:**  swatch #47

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Lilac?

**Yata Misaki:**  NEVER MIND THE NAME GDI

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  I just find it ironic.

**Yata Misaki:**  WHAT

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Beautiful Blossom?

**Yata Misaki:**  i will fucking kill you saru

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Empty promises.

**Yata Misaki:**  whatever do you want the purple or not?

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  It's fine.

**Yata Misaki:**  we gotta have red flowers tho

**Yata Misaki:**  i mean for anna

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  ... Fine

**Yata Misaki:**  yeah and if you want to add something small in blue say so

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Are you sure? There's going to be plenty of blue as it is.

**Yata Misaki:**  huh?

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Everyone from Scepter 4 will be in uniform, after all.

**Yata Misaki:**  WTF???

**Yata Misaki:**  WHO DECIDED THAT???

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Oh, I didn't mention it?

**Yata Misaki:**  NO YOU FUCKIN DIDN'T YOU DICK

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  The Captain thinks it will be more formal that way.

**Yata Misaki:**  HE CAN GO FUCK HIMSELF GOD FUCKING DAMNIT

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  You can try talking to him yourself if you don't like it. He's already told everyone.

**Yata Misaki:**  I FUCKING WILL I'LL PUNCH HIS FUCKING FACE IN FUCKKKK

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Best of luck with that...

**Yata Misaki:**  YOU are def not wearing a goddamn uniform

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  I'm not. Don't be stupid.

**Yata Misaki:**  GOOD

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Unless you decide to wear a suit with shorts.

**Yata Misaki:**  fuck off i'm not doing that

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  You haven't worn pants since junior high school.

**Yata Misaki:**  whatever shorts are comfortable

**Yata Misaki:**  but yeah no suits with shorts that'd be dumb

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  Are you sure you're not going to go with your sister's suggestion?

**Yata Misaki:**  don't be an asshole

**Yata Misaki:**  you'd look better in it than me

**Yata Misaki:**  you're delicate like a girl

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  You're the shorter one. Plus, it fits your name.

**Yata Misaki:**  go to hell

**Fushimi Saruhiko:**  I'll bet your mother could find one in lilac, Misaki.

**Yata Misaki:**  seriously fuck you

 

**bachelor party**

_"This will be the best night of your life - trust me!"_

Hidaka's cheerful promise was still quite clear in Fushimi's head as he sat at the end of the table with an untouched can of beer and a heaping plate of anko in front of him. There was some sort of idiotic paper 'crown' that he was apparently  _required_  to wear for the night, and it kept slipping forward into his eyes while he browsed on his PDA and tried to ignore the card game going on around him. Technically, he was supposed to be  _playing_  the game, but it wasn't fun and it wasn't like he could win anyway, so he was only paying attention when he had to.

_This is ridiculous._

Supposedly, the original plan had been to go to some annoying place where there would probably be large amounts of drunk people, loud music, and some kind of 'pre-wedding' antics. That plan had been amended after Fushimi refused the first five invitations to his own bachelor party, and his agreement on the sixth had come after someone - he still hadn't found out who - had gotten hold of Misaki and pleaded their case. Even then, he'd only gone along with this stupid idea on the condition that they didn't go anywhere outside of Scepter 4 headquarters.

Which apparently had been a mistake.

"Surely not everyone is planning to fold this round again," Munakata's voice cut into the strained silence in the room, with far too much enthusiasm for Fushimi's liking. "You really should show more confidence in your hand. Perhaps... Fushimi-kun... ?"

"I folded already," Fushimi responded flatly, without looking up from his PDA.

"Ah, pity. Hidaka-kun, then...?"

"Captain... please... isn't it enough already?"

"Ahaha! Awashima-kun, I'll take one more card, please."

"Yes, sir!"

Neither Munakata nor Awashima had been among those invited to the party. Someone apparently had not been discrete when discussing the plans for the evening, and this was the result.

_"You can't have a woman at a man's bachelor party!"_  Doumyouji had protested when they'd made their entrance - and had been cheerfully ignored.

Apparently if you were the Blue King, you could have whoever you wanted at someone else's bachelor party.

_How soon will this end already?_

Fushimi's PDA buzzed in his hand, and 'Yata Misaki' flashed up on the call display.

Possibly sooner than expected, then. A flash of hope wormed in through the wall of dismay. "I have to take this," he announced to the table, and stood without waiting, wandering out into the hall and shutting the door behind him before answering. "Fushimi."

He wasn't expecting the loud clash of music, shouts, and laughter that met his ear. Fushimi jerked the PDA away, staring at it with a mix of irritation and disgust. "What...?"

"Saruhiko!" Even with all of that, Misaki's voice came through loud and painfully clear. The phone was almost an arm's length away from his face, and he still couldn't hold back a grimace at the volume. "You gotta fucking get me outta here, right now!"

Clicking his tongue, Fushimi carefully lowered the volume on the PDA speakers before bringing it back to his face again. "What are you talking about?"

He'd known, of course, that Misaki's bachelor party was on the same night as his, but if anything he'd thought that would mean he wouldn't even hear from his fiance until sometime the next day. Which was moderately irritating, but the Homra side of Misaki's life was something he'd accepted - grudgingly - as the price of entry for this relationship, and so it couldn't be helped.

Misaki calling him now was... unexpected.

"I said, I need to you get me out of here!" There was an edge in Misaki's voice that was not quite panic but something very much like it, mixed with irritation and the tiniest bit of a slur that spoke of some drinking earlier in the evening. "Can you just... shit..." His voice cut out for a moment, and there was the sound of feminine laughter - then the background noise went muffled, as if it was being blocked by a wall of fabric. "Can you just - I dunno - call back and pretend like you need me to pick you up? I have to fucking leave right now!"

Fushimi could feel his eyebrow raising as he listened. "Where  _are_  you?"

"I'm..." He heard Misaki curse again, and there was the sound of more shuffling. Loud male laughter and high-pitched feminine voices. Music. "I'm at a - shit - I'm at a strip club," he finally hissed.

_What._  He wasn't exactly surprised, but...  _Seriously?_  Fushimi let the other eyebrow rise to join the first, despite the fact that he knew Misaki couldn't see it. "What are you doing at a place like that, Misaki?"

"Shut up! It was Chitose's idea, okay?" The snappish answer had a defensive edge to it. "I-I didn't think it'd be like - like  _this_! Normally you'd expect to just see them on the stage, right? That'd be the normal thing, wouldn't it?" He didn't pause for an answer, rushing on with the rest almost desperately. "There - there's girls  _everywhere_! Like - like walking around! Ha-ha-hardly wearing an-anything!"

_What, exactly, did you expect?_  Fushimi felt the smirk building on his lips and didn't bother to hold it back. The evening had suddenly gotten a lot more interesting. "So you're hiding in the coat rack - is that about right?"

The music suddenly cleared up, as if whatever had been muffling it had disappeared. Misaki sputtered for a few seconds before snapping back, "I'm not in the fucking coat rack!"

Fushimi tipped his head back, closing his eyes for a moment.  _Typical, Misaki._  He was still smiling when he opened them again. "So what do you expect me to do for you?"

"I told you - fuck - " There was some kind of clamor in the background; when Misaki continued, it sounded like he was talking through clenched teeth. "Fucking call me, and say you're dying or something, so I've got an excuse to leave!"

That actually wasn't a bad idea. And, at the moment... Fushimi considered the stilted, awkward game of cards happening inside the room he'd just left. There was still that full plate of anko paste that Awashima had set in front of him, and someone no doubt was going to pester him about actually drinking the beer he'd been given. Plus, Munakata had mentioned something about a chess tournament...

He certainly wasn't above appropriating Misaki's plan for his own use.

"Understood," Fushimi said crisply into the PDA, opening the door and stepping back into the room purposefully as he spoke. "I'll head out right away. Don't let that idiot knock himself out before I do."

"What the  _hell_  are you talking about? I said  _call_ , not come here! What are you - ?"

It was lucky he'd turned the volume down earlier. Fushimi talked right over his fiance's baffled response. "No, it's fine - I'd rather not have him pass out before he can make his way home, after all. I'll be right there."

"W-wait! Saruhiko? Don't hang up, okay? Don't fucking - "

He disconnected the call, sliding the PDA into his pocket again as he turned to look at the others in the room. "Sorry. I have to go."

"Of course, Fushimi-kun." Munakata smiled at him, inclining his head with seeming generosity. "Don't let us keep you from your important matters. Hopefully this final celebration as a bachelor was a meaningful event."

There was no point in lying about that. "Not really." Fushimi turned deliberately away from the pleading eyes of the special operations unit, heading back for the door without hesitation. "See you."

"Take care, Fushimi-kun. Now, for the rest of us..."

"Have mercy, Captain!"

The door shut behind him.  _Finally._

As he was walking down the hall, the paper crown fell forward into his eyes again. Fushimi clicked his tongue, reaching up to pull the entire thing off of his head. His original intent was to crumple it up and toss it into the nearest trashcan, but after staring for a moment at the ridiculous design - a little drawing from each of his co-workers sketched awkwardly over the gold pattern of the crown - he made another soft 'tch' and folded it instead, tucking it into his other pocket.

Ridiculous, really, but it didn't matter.

With his escape made, his mood was already starting to improve. Fushimi allowed himself a small smile, feeling satisfied, and reached into his pocket to grasp his PDA.

He'd call Misaki back once he was outside the gate.


	2. Wedding Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Yata-chan!

**last minute**

When Yata finished putting his suit on and turned to look at himself in the mirror, everything felt weird as hell.

Even with all the work and the hassle - and it had  _really_  been a fucking hassle, trying to find a place and someone to officiate on only a few months' notice for a Tanabata wedding - it still felt like this. Like it wasn't really happening. He was just making up shit in his head. It was some kind of dream, and he'd wake up later on and scratch his head at how bizarre it was.

Except that he looked at himself in the fancy white rented suit reflected back from a full-length mirror hanging in a banquet hall's preparation room, and it was unquestionably real.

_I'm marrying Saruhiko today._

The thought brought a lump to his throat; Yata couldn't help but smile a little. The person who had been his best friend, his most bitter enemy, and the love of his life. The person who was so brilliant and scornful and closed off, but so clumsy and vulnerable under all that. The person who had always fascinated him, taking his breath away from the beginning - taking his heart before he'd realized he'd offered it up. The person who had hurt him the most, made him feel the strongest, and in the end gave him so much happiness he thought he'd burst.

Today, he was marrying that person.

A telltale sting rose up to the back of his eyes and nose; Yata shook his head and frowned back at his reflection, straightening his shoulders.  _Not now, damnit..._  He was seriously never going to hear the end of it if he cried before the ceremony even started.

In an attempt to distract himself a bit, he took another look around the room. It was small - just enough room for two or three people to get comfortably changed - and aside from the mirror there wasn't much in the way of furnishings. A single stool, some hangers for clothing and a few generic scenery paintings on the cream-colored walls.

The banquet hall they'd chosen - or rather, jumped on when it turned out to be available - wasn't terribly fancy, and it wasn't all that big, either, but it was enough for what they had planned. He still wasn't totally sure how that Blue King had found it when they were frantically looking for a place that wasn't booked, but he guessed he owed the guy one now.

Somehow, that was hard to take. Yata scowled to himself.  _Or maybe we're fucking even, since I'm going to be staring at a bunch of blue uniforms on my goddamn wedding day._  That was a battle he was still feeling quite bitter about, and the fact that it had come down to 'Fushimi-kun's comfort level' and 'some needed sense of familiarity' irked him to no end.

_As if you know any more about what makes him comfortable than I do..._

Still, he wasn't going to let some stupid smiling Blue King ruin anything about today. Yata resolutely turned his mind away from that and moved to pick up his tie from the stool, looping it around his neck and tucking it under the shirt collar properly. Aside from the red carnation that would be pinned to his jacket - which Kamamoto was holding for him just outside - it was the last thing he needed to put on.

Unfortunately, he'd never exactly learned how to tie one...

"Misaki?" There was a light knock on the door along with his mother's familiar voice. "I came by to wish you good luck."

That was good timing. Yata stepped over to the door and swung it open. "Thanks, Mom!" He offered her a grin, rubbing the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. "And, uh... by the way..." He held up the end of the tie.

"You still haven't learned to tie one by yourself?" She shook her head at him critically, but still leaned it to grasp the ends of the tie. "Honestly, Misaki..."

Somehow, she was still smiling a little. Yata watched her face as she focussed on the task, and felt a sudden rush of warmth. His mother was dressed up for the occasion, hair pinned up elegantly and with some delicate jewelry to accent what was probably a brand new dress. It wasn't like she was a frivolous spender when it came to clothing, either - this was special. And she was the on who'd found them an officiant after everything - who'd talked him through all the little details he hadn't known he'd have to worry about - who'd planned out the decorating for the hall, since they couldn't afford to get someone to do it for him. She'd been here with him all day yesterday without complaining, along with some of his close friends from Homra, and at the end she'd been smiling, patient and fond like always.

It was enough to get him choked up again. Yata swallowed hard, and managed a smile as she finished with the tie and lifted her head. "Thanks, Mom." It couldn't be helped if his voice came out husky like that, right? "I... for everything, you know? I love you."

The smile she answered back with was almost blinding. "I love you too, Misaki." She reached up and stroked his cheek, eyes growing suspiciously shiny. "You look so handsome. I am so happy for the both of you." Gently, she reached back to tip his head down and tilted her own face up, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Good luck. You two will be just fine."

"Yeah." Even as he watched her walk back down the hallway, he could feel the truth of that surrounding him, comforting and certain.

_We'll be just fine._

 

**ceremony**

There was an order and a precision to the ceremony that was almost relaxing. Fushimi wasn't particularly bothered by the formality, although his husband-to-be had been fidgeting beside him since they'd met just outside the door where they were supposed to enter. Misaki looked a bit out of his element, stiffly handsome in his suit, face a bit red and an anxious scowl on his lips. If anything, when Misaki had looked at him, sharp nervous eyes drifting all the way from his head down to his toes, he'd only seemed to tense up more, as if the sight of Fushimi in his matching white suit had hammered everything home that much harder.

_There's nothing to be all that worried about, you know..._

He'd memorized the setup of the banquet hall, so he'd already known exactly how far it was from the door to the table where they were sitting while the officiant - some friend of Misaki's family, supposedly - ran the ceremony. It was moderately unnerving to be the focus of so much attention, but in the end, it wasn't like he hadn't handled more than this. One entire side of the room was just people in the familiar blue uniforms anyway, which made it easier.

Focusing on the order and specifics of what was coming took care of any remaining nerves.

None of this was complicated - even Misaki could handle it without mistakes. All they'd had to do was wait for the introduction and then walk in together and sit down. From there, it was just answering questions and signing papers. Everything was so straightforward that anyone could do it.

_Why is he still bothered by this?_  Really, it was no big deal, but Misaki had been on edge the whole time, loudly blurting out his affirmation to the question of whether he took Fushimi as his husband and then glaring out at their audience when the subject of objections came up, as if he thought someone might be stupid enough to actually raise one. When the document was passed to them to sign, Misaki's already messy signature was shakier than usual.

Well, sometimes the smallest things rattled Misaki, so there was no point in thinking too hard about it. Fushimi passed the paper to his right, and Akiyama took it from him, adding his own tidy handwriting to the appropriate line without hesitation.

When it came down to it, Akiyama had only been the least objectionable of Fushimi's choices for someone to stand up with him, but it had worked out nicely. He was efficient, had no trouble following directions, didn't make any irritating comments or ask stupid questions when they'd been told how the ceremony would go, and he could be relied on to carry out last minute tasks if needed. The fact that he'd seemed genuinely pleased to have been asked - had smiled and set a hand on Fushimi's shoulder and responded that he was honored - was a side factor.

A side factor that had permanently etched itself into Fushimi's brain as a not-unpleasant memory, but still a side factor.

Kamamoto sat on Misaki's other side, wearing the same plain black suit as Akiyama - a suit that he'd had to be fitted for less than a week before the wedding due to whatever freakish phenomenon caused him to turn into what appeared, to Fushimi's eyes, to be a completely different person. The transformation was unnerving.

_Not that it matters..._

Their officiant took the document and held it up for the guests to see - as if anyone really cared - and then strode back to his position just left of their table, cleared his throat, and announced that the couple had chosen to write their own vows and those would be read now for everyone.

... Right. That.

Fushimi felt a little unpleasant curl in his stomach. It wasn't that he'd exactly  _forgotten_  about the vows. It was more... he'd pushed it out of his head, not wanting to spend too much time examining the reality that his personal feelings would be announced to everyone in the room.

_It's so annoying._

If he'd had his way, the vows would have been the standard ones, static scripting like the rest of the ceremony - nice and safe and uncomplicated. Misaki had been adamantly against that, scowling at him pugnaciously and loudly declaring that scripted vows were useless and what was the point of all this if they couldn't declare their feelings honestly and openly, anyway. Fushimi had eventually given in, more to keep up the appearance that it didn't really matter to him one way or another, and later regretted it as he struggled with the notion of writing something that would be sufficiently serious about his commitment to Misaki.

Declaring his feelings honestly and openly had never been something he was good at.

_"Why not try thinking about some special moment with Yata-san while you write?"_  had been Akiyama's suggestion when he and some of the others from the special operations unit had found Fushimi in the break room scowling at the blank document that was open on his laptop.

_"From the heart is best!"_  Hidaka had added enthusiastically.

_"Say you want to make him happy!"_  Doumyouji had tossed out with a careless shrug.  _"I see that in wedding dramas all the time!"_

Enomoto had looked momentarily thoughtful, and then diffidently added,  _"Make sure to mention how much you love him. I get the feeling that's a requirement for vows."_

... Useless, all around.

In the end, the words came in painful pieces, some sinking into his head while he watched Misaki's back in the kitchen, some floating in disjoined fragments in front of his eyes at work, some rising to the surface of his thoughts as he drifted off in Misaki's arms. He hadn't written much at all, but Misaki was just going to have to deal with it.

_So will everyone else, since it's being read to them._

Somehow, that thought was enough to send a sudden, unexpected rush of panic through him. Fushimi clenched his hands into tight fists in his lap, resisting the urge to stand and tell the officiant to just shut up and skip this part.

"From Yata Misaki to Fushimi Saruhiko," the officiant began, and Fushimi had just a second to consider whether this was a good development or a bad one (if Misaki's were read first, it at least meant he'd have some idea for comparison, but with his being last, they were the ones that would be remembered more clearly) before the man was continuing on. "I was in love with you before I knew it, so it was probably from the beginning."

Somehow, that start had him relaxing a tiny amount.  _What? That's a really lame way to put it._  He glanced sideways at Misaki, and got back a pugnacious glare and scowl, as if to challenge him. You could almost read the question from his expression: 'Wanna fight over it?' The distinct red on his cheeks spoiled the effect somewhat.

Typical.

"Even someone like you with" - there was a momentary pause, as if the officiant wasn't quite sure what to make of the next words, and he couldn't quite mask the bemused tone when he continued - "no sensitivity should know this, right?"

It was hard to resist the urge to click his tongue at that. Misaki's scowl shifted to a smirk; he breathed a soft, almost inaudible "heh", as if to say 'you totally are, don't deny it'.

"When we were just two kids clinging together, every moment was bright. I felt selfishly satisfied knowing that I could see sides of you that no one else did."

Fushimi blinked, and furrowed his eyebrows.  _He had those kinds of thoughts?_

It... wasn't what he'd expected, somehow.

"Even now, that feeling hasn't changed."

Misaki's ears were red, Fushimi noticed with a certain amount of fascination. Those expressive amber eyes were still fixed stubbornly on his face, bright with determination even as their owner blushed furiously.

"After everything, we still find and cling to each other in the end, right? Your position in my heart never really changed."

Something about those words made his skin prickle. Fushimi could feel it as the beat of his own heart picked up, intensifying quickly to a loud pounding in his ears. In front of him, Misaki's face had softened into a smile, his eyes suspiciously shiny with a mixture of warmth and hope and sincerity, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe or swallow around the painful lump that had lodged itself up at the back of Fushimi's throat while he wasn't paying attention.

_Misaki's open and honest feelings..._

They could still surprise him after this many years.

"I want to be the one who makes you more happy than anyone else."

If he hadn't been struggling with awkward feelings already, the reminder of Doumyouji's wedding drama comment probably would've made him snort.  _Make me happy, huh?_

That was already a given at this point.

"I swear," the officiant went on, and it was possible to see the way Misaki's eyes darkened with even more earnest emotion, "I will take care of you forever, Saruhiko. Until both of us die, and even after that."

It was almost possible to hear that repeated in Misaki's voice, with his usual energetic zeal and the way his tone deepened out as he expressed something he was serious and passionate about. Fushimi felt the answering pang in his chest, and shut his eyes for a brief second, savoring it. He allowed himself a tiny smile as he opened them again, murmuring under his breath, "So dramatic."

If anything, Misaki's face flushed even darker; he scowled again, and whispered back fiercely, "Shut up!"

_That's a pretty good reaction._  Despite the fact that it was a bit awkward, the emotion threatening to carve its way out of his chest compelled him to add, softly, "I didn't say it was bad."

Misaki's eyes widened a bit and then softened noticeably, but before he could respond to that, the officiant was continuing. "From Fushimi Saruhiko to Yata Misaki."

That unpleasant little knot was forming in his stomach again - although it wasn't as bad now, having heard Misaki's vows first. Fushimi resisted the urge to turn his gaze. Despite everything, he did want to see Misaki's face, even if there was nothing particularly special in what he'd written.

"You're mine and I'm yours," the reading began, and it was possible to see the slight widening of Misaki's eyes as he recognized the origin of the words. "If it's not like that forever, this world" - once again, there was a brief, awkward pause, but to his credit, the officiant continued staunchly - "can go to hell."

In front of him, Misaki let out what looked like an amused huff; his lips turned up again in a rueful smile.

"I don't know how to say how much I love Misaki."

Hearing his own uncertainty expressed by another person was almost unbearably frustrating. Fushimi could feel the tension in his shoulders build, and his mouth turned down into a frown. It was the truth, but it felt uncomfortable for it to be exposed like this. There was a slightly unpleasant warmth building up along his neck and around the edges of his face.

Still... Misaki's eyes were steady on him, full of emotion. It wasn't totally bad.

"I think if it was something you could measure in weight or volume, a physical body wouldn't have the capacity to contain such feelings."

The smile that spread on Misaki's face was brilliant enough to take Fushimi's breath away, and all at once, the discomfort and humiliation seemed worth it. "Saruhiko," Misaki mouthed, reaching over impulsively to take his hand. The eyes that met his were openly wavering.

"It's like this even if" - another of those pauses, but briefer this time, as if the man was getting used to being surprised by things he couldn't understand - "you're an idiot."

There was some shifting from the audience at that. Misaki's eyebrows came down and he let go of Fushimi's hand to punch him in the shoulder. The smile somehow just got brighter, eyes shifting to a mix of exasperation and fondness. "Asshole," he murmured, without conviction.

"You wanted to marry me," Fushimi mumbled back, caught between embarrassment and those indefinable feelings that swirled restlessly within him when Misaki's existence at the center of his world shone so brightly.

_"Don't you think it'd be nice to make it totally clear to everyone?"_

Hearing the words of affection that Misaki was willing to say openly to him in front of the other people in his life... Maybe it was a bit nice.

"Would the couple now please go ahead with the exchange of rings?"

In front of him, Misaki blinked, looking like he'd almost forgotten that there was more to the ceremony than just the vows. He'd lost a lot of that nervous edge during the reading, but was clearly on his way towards getting flustered again when he shifted in his seat to take the ring from Kamamoto. He fumbled a bit and nearly dropped it before turning back to Fushimi with a red face and white knuckles where he was pinching the little silver circle.

_Well, it's probably fine._  Fushimi held out his left hand.

The trembling of Misaki's fingers was noticeable as he took the offered hand, but his motions were gentle when he slid the ring on. Afterwards, he held Fushimi's hand for maybe just a second too long, staring at it as if momentarily fascinated, and then raised his gaze, eyes brimming with emotion again.

_Don't look at me like that right now..._  The ring felt cool and comfortable, but Fushimi couldn't spare it a glance. It was enough to know that Misaki had put it there.

They did have an audience, though, after all. Fushimi turned to retrieve Misaki's ring from Akiyama, who offered him a small, encouraging smile, and then turned back to take Misaki's left hand in his.

He was familiar with the feel of that hand, hard calluses and short, wide fingers. Misaki's hand could grasp his with incredible strength or brush against him with unbelievable gentleness, depending on the mood of its owner. Right now, it was clammy in his, and he could feel Misaki's eyes on him as he slipped the ring onto the correct finger, sliding it slowly up until there was no space left to cover.

Such a small, stupid thing, but...

Fushimi could still picture the moment when Misaki had tried the ring on, with just the two of them in their bedroom, grinning at it openly. He looked up at Misaki's shining eyes and wide smile, and thought,  _It looks better on him now._

Somewhere outside of the small bubble with just the two of them, the officiant was moving on. "To celebrate the marriage, please raise your glasses in a toast."

There was the sound of shuffling from the tables in front of them and then a loud, uncoordinated chorus of "congratulations", but Fushimi couldn't be bothered to turn from Misaki's face to check it. Even as he watched, he could clearly see the tears forming at the corners of his - his  _husband's_  eyes. "Don't cry," he mumbled, more to cover the stinging he felt at the back of his own than anything.

_Really, what a pain..._

"Shut up! I'm not!" Misaki raised his hand to swipe furiously at his eyes. "I just - I'm happy, okay?"

Fushimi watched him for a second longer, emotions welling in his chest, and then allowed himself a small smile. "Me too."

_I'm happy._  It shouldn't have felt strange to think, but even until now, it was rare that he didn't feel at least a bit wary of it.  _Misaki._

From somewhere at the guest tables, Doumyouji called out, "Kiss!"

_... What._

" _H-hah?_ " Misaki was already jerking his head to stare wildly out at their audience, face slowly growing red. "K-k-k-kiss? N-now?"

"Yeah!" someone from the Homra side of things chimed in, enthusiastically. "Kiss him, Yata-san!"

That seemed to open the floodgates.

"You can do it!"

"Do your best, Fushimi-san!"

"Make it a good one!"

"Let's see some of that action!"

"Come on, don't be shy!"

Misaki was stuttering, face flaring up like a tomato, so Fushimi took on the task of glowering out around at the room. "There's no kiss in the ceremony," he said flatly, raising his voice just enough so that it would carry.

"It's traditional in certain other regions," Munakata pointed out, meeting his gaze with calm amusement before glancing around the room meaningfully. "And it does seem as though there's a certain demand for it among your guests. Why not indulge everyone, Fushimi-kun?"

_How annoying..._  Fushimi clicked his tongue. "Why should we have to do something like that?"

"Saruhiko." Anna had pushed herself up from her chair; she was in between the two long tables now, a camera clutched in both hands and her eyes serious as she studied them. "Misaki." Even as a teenager, the soft plea was compelling. "For the pictures."

Misaki jerked in his seat. When Fushimi turned his head, it was just in time to meet that embarrassed gaze as it fixed on him as well. Behind Misaki, Kamamoto thumped him on the back boisterously. "Go on, Yata-san - you can do it!"

Fushimi could already feel the argument being lost. From his other side, Akiyama patted his shoulder with a certain sympathy.

"Ah, geez!" His husband let out a sharp, agitated huff. "I get it! I get it already!" He glanced back towards their guests with uncertainty. "J-just one, okay?"

"Yes," Anna responded, without hesitation. "Ready."

Misaki's eyes turned back to Fushimi again, full of determination in the same way they got when he was preparing for a battle. His shoulders straightened. "All right," he muttered, and leaned forward.

"Seriously..." Fushimi resisted the urge to click his tongue again and tried to ignore all the eyes that were definitely fixed on the pair of them.  _Better to just get it over with,_  he decided, and moved to meet his husband in a chaste kiss.

It felt far too awkward. Misaki's lips were still and unmoving, pressing against Fushimi's with maybe a little more force than necessary. That uncomfortable warmth was rising on his face again, and he wanted to turn and scowl when he heard a chorus of cheers. Someone even let out a shrill-sounding whistle.

Anna's camera went off.

It was like being released from a spell. They broke apart quickly, and after opening his eyes to Misaki's flushed, embarrassed face, Fushimi hastily turned his gaze aside, clicking his tongue sharply and feeling the heat on his own cheeks spread further.

_What a stupid thing._

"Thank you," he heard Anna's voice say in the middle of all that fuss, and didn't bother to try and respond.

"Let's eat!" someone from Misaki's side of the room called out, and the room abruptly seemed to erupt with even more noise as the guests started to rise from their seats to line up at the buffet.

Fushimi stayed where he was. Beside him, Misaki also hadn't moved, likely still paralyzed with embarrassment.

As attention shifted away from them, the discomfort from earlier seemed to settle and he could breathe more easily. Fushimi glanced sideways at Misaki, just at the exact moment that Misaki turned to look at him, and somehow that had them both huffing out a brief laugh.

"Congrats to us, huh?" Misaki said, grinning at him somewhat ruefully.

Fushimi shook his head. "Something like that."

Misaki's hand found his, and by unspoken agreement they stayed sitting there for just a little while longer.

 

**wish**

They had set up several large bamboo near the guest entrance to the hall, on the opposite side of the room from the head table. As the rush for dinner and dessert was winding down and people were starting to mill while the attendants at the hall cleaned up the remains of the food trays, Yata took the opportunity to wander over to the little setup.

There was a small table with strips of paper for writing wishes, and he could see that quite a few people had already done it. The bamboo grass was already lined with the brightly colored papers, making the display much more lively.

_Well, I should write something myself._  It was his wedding day, and he definitely had wishes for the future, so there was no point in wasting the opportunity. Yata picked out a strip of paper and a pencil, considered it for a quick moment, and then hastily scrawled the first thing that came to mind.

After he'd hung it on the tree, he stepped back for a moment, checking it.  _All right, good._  Really, the way they'd set it up was nice - there were some small lanterns set up as replacement candles in strategic places and it cast light and shadow across the bamboo to bring out the colorful papers lined up along the shoots.

"I took a picture already," Anna said quietly from his right side, and he jerked, startled.

"O-Oh. Right." Yata grinned sheepishly at her. She'd always been able to move without being noticed; he kind of got the impression that she did it without even thinking now. "Thanks."

She smiled back, and then turned her eyes to the bamboo again. "It's very pretty."

"Yeah, we did pretty good, huh?" He turned as well, looking the whole setup over with satisfaction. "Though it was mostly Mom figuring out everything."

"Yes, your mother is a good person," Anna agreed. "I like your family."

His grin widened at that. "Heh. Right?"

"They explain a lot about you, Misaki."

"Huh?" Yata turned to blink at her, a little confused. "Like, they said some things about me at dinner?"

Anna shut her eyes, smiling a bit. "No, that's not what I meant. The person you are and the person that you try to be..." She opened her eyes and turned to meet his gaze. "It becomes clear when I talk with them."

"O-Oh." As usual, he didn't really get it. Yata offered an apologetic shrug. "If you say so."

"Onii-chan, did you write something already?" Minoru stepped over on his right, smiling - and then abruptly stiffened as he spotted Anna. "K-Kushina-san!"

She turned her smile on him. "Good evening."

"Y-Yeah... Yes! G-Good evening!"

Yata glanced from Anna to Minoru. His younger brother was fidgeting, doing his best to stand up straight, and his cheeks were turning red as he stared at Homra's King.

_For fuck's sake - really?_

Well, whatever. As Anna turned to head back to her seat, Yata kept an eye on Minoru's awkward, wistful gaze after her, and then watched him slump in a sigh.  _He's not any better with girls than me, huh?_  It was probably for the best - Yata wasn't sure if he wanted to spend his wedding night making sure his friends didn't beat up his brother.

Probably better not to mention it at all. "Oi," he said, clapping a hand on Minoru's shoulder to snap him out of it. "Hurry up and make a wish already if that's what you came here for."

"Oh. Yeah, right." Minoru sighed again, looking a bit sheepish as he turned towards the table.

_Wishes, huh?_  Yata could still see his, freshly hung, and grinned a bit. One way or another, it was coming true.

'For a long and happy future with Saruhiko'.

 

**in-laws**

There was a lot of activity in the hall as the attendants were rearranging the tables and chairs in order to clear off the floor for dancing. Fushimi hung back towards the wall where there wasn't already a group of guests, taking advantage of the situation to get a little time to himself.

Misaki was chatting animatedly with some of his friends from Homra, looking happy and energized, but it wasn't terribly irritating to watch. Fushimi shut his eyes, bringing his hand up to rest lightly over the breast of his jacket, where the familiar burn scar still sat.

He was pretty sure it was never going to heal, but after years of Misaki's care, it had at least faded to a semi-healthy pink. Fushimi didn't mind it, really. It was a constant reminder of past mistakes and years lost to bitterness. Whenever he was upset with Misaki - or when Misaki was upset with him - he would feel the tingling in his fingers that signified the urge to scratch. Scratch and forget. Inflict pain, and wash out any of the unpleasant feelings with physical discomfort.

To curb the habit, he'd tried to replace it, running the pads of his fingers over the mark and feeling the thin ridges of skin beneath them. It helped to be aware of it - to remember what it meant and where he'd gone wrong.

To remind him of how fortunate he was with the way things were now.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Munakata offered a small smile when Fushimi opened his eyes to look at him. "You appeared to be thinking deeply, but I thought you might appreciate some company."

Strangely enough, the offer wasn't unappealing. "Do what you want."

"Thank you." Munakata moved in to stand beside him, straight and tall with his arms behind his back, and turned his gaze onto the activity in the hall. "It appears that the wedding has been a great success."

A statement like that was definitely premature. "The night isn't over yet."

"Very true." The agreement was calm and good-natured; Munakata smiled confidently out at the rapidly clearing floor. "We can still achieve excellence before the festivities end."

Fushimi shot him a dubious glance, but before he could respond to that, a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Saruhiko-kun." Misaki's mother stepped up towards them, a wide smile on her face, and moved without hesitance to pull him into a hug. "Congratulations! You and Misaki did wonderfully up there." She pulled back, one hand still lingering on his shoulder as she regarded him with fondness. "Both of you look so handsome and so grown-up! It seems like just yesterday that you were doing your summer homework together."

He blinked at her, feeling the usual stirring of uncertainty and something that might have been yearning at her open affection. Misaki's family tended to catch him off-guard. "... Thanks."

"Oh? You must be Yata-kun's relative, then." Munakata smiled pleasantly, seemingly at ease with the situation. "This is certainly a pleasure."

Misaki's mother blinked at him, looking mildly surprised. "Oh my... I'm so sorry - yes, I'm Misaki's mother, Yata Manami." The smile was back, bright as ever; she tilted her head. "Saruhiko-kun never mentioned an older brother, though... Or perhaps you're a cousin?"

Fushimi just about choked at that.

"Munakata Reisi." Without missing a beat, the Blue King inclined his head. If anything, his smile had become more serene than ever. "I suppose we'll be seeing a great deal more of one another in the future, Yata-san."

_He doesn't even try to deny it..._  Fushimi clicked his tongue. "We're not related."

"Ah, sorry for the mix-up!" Misaki's mother laughed a bit, waving a hand slightly. "The two of you look so similar standing over here together that I just leaped to a conclusion without thinking. Are you a close friend of Saruhiko-kun's, then?"

The gleam that shone off of Munakata's glasses as he raised his head seemed somehow ominous. "As a matter of fact - "

"He's my superior at work," Fushimi interrupted flatly.

"Oh, I see." She didn't seem to notice any awkwardness at all, continuing on blithely. "Well, it seems like the two of you get along well. Saruhiko-kun, you were always such a quiet boy - I'm so glad to see you've opened up a bit to others."

For a moment all he could do was stare at her in perplexity.  _Where did she get that impression?_

Munakata seemed more than happy to pick up the conversational slack. "Indeed," he responded, "Fushimi-kun and I have been working closely together for years now." His eyes were full of keen interest as he regarded her. "If it's not too bold, I would be very interested to hear any stories from his childhood with Yata-kun."

That immediately set off all of Fushimi's hackles. "Don't just ask for something like - "

"Of course, yes!" Misaki's mother laughed, patting Fushimi on the shoulder with good humor. "Don't be stingy, Saruhiko-kun - I won't mention anything too embarrassing. Munakata-san, please - you'll have to come and meet the rest of the family." She half-turned, waving a hand ahead of her. "Follow me."

"That's very generous of you, Yata-san." The Blue King moved from the wall with a pleased smile. "You should join us, Fushimi-kun; perhaps you can add your own thoughts to these moments of reminiscence."

_How annoying._  Fushimi clicked his tongue again. This was quite possibly the worst combination he could've predicted for tonight: two people who knew more about him than he was comfortable with, one of whom had a knack for not minding his own business and the other too open and chatty for her own good. It was going to be a disaster.

He didn't know why he wasn't more irritated with it...

_Well, whatever._  Either way, he was going to have to go along if he didn't want Munakata to worm some information out of Misaki's mother that he really didn't need to have in the first place. It was a pain, but it couldn't be helped. Just one more thing that he needed to take care of, that was all.

Fushimi moved away from the wall to follow the two of them, resolutely ignoring the warmth that was forming in his chest.

 

**dance**

Chilling out and socializing had definitely eased off a lot of the tension from the ceremony but once the floor was cleared and the music was set up and ready to go, most of Yata's anxiety returned almost immediately.

_Fucking dancing, in front of everyone..._

He'd really wanted to just skip the step where he and Saruhiko had to go out alone, but his mother had insisted that it was what the guests would expect, and then set her hands on her hips and asked him if he was going to let his embarrassment prevent him from doing things properly with his husband-to-be.

That had pretty much settled that.

"There you are, Misaki." Speaking of his mother... She was smiling brightly as she came through the crowd towards him. "Come on, don't keep everyone waiting. Saruhiko-kun is already on the floor, see?"

He followed the direction her arm waved with his eyes. Yeah, Saruhiko was technically on the floor, at the outside edge where the chairs had been pushed off. He was standing by himself, frowning off at some point beside him and looking mildly annoyed. The obvious tension in his shoulders betrayed just how uncomfortable he was with the situation.

_At least we're both gonna suffer through this._  "Yeah, I'm coming."

"Good luck, Yata-san!" Kamamoto called after him.

"Break a leg!" Akagi cheered.

"Just not literally," Eric added.

Yata shot him a scowl, waved a careless hand back at all of them, and marched out to join his husband.

Fucking  _husband_. He couldn't help but grin a little at that. It was still sinking in.

"What are you so happy about?" Saruhiko muttered when he stepped up to join him.

Yata raised an eyebrow at him. "What, I'm not allowed to be happy on my wedding day? What are  _you_  so pissy about?"

Saruhiko returned his gaze, expression difficult to read in the poor lighting. It was hard to see his eyes behind his glasses. "I'm not, really."

"Heh. Right."  _You just keep telling yourself that._  Yata held out a hand. "Come on, let's get this done, huh?"

There was a split second of hesitation, and then Saruhiko took it, shoulders relaxing just the tiniest bit. "If you insist."

It was almost possible to  _feel_  the eyes on them when they stepped out. Yata's skin prickled, and he had to swallow as they stopped somewhere around the middle of the floor. He -  _they_  - had practiced this, and he was pretty sure he had his part down, but doing it in front of all of his friends and those guys from Scepter 4 was nerve-wracking.

Also kind of embarrassing, because he wasn't the one leading.

They probably would've argued over that, too, and technically he was the better dancer so he  _should_  have been leading... but as the person running the lessons, his mother had decided they were going to settle it with a bystander vote. Bystanders being herself, Minoru, and Megumi - and all three of them had voted for Saruhiko over him, the traitors. And then his fiance had glanced at him and  _smirked_... Seriously, if it wasn't for the fact that his pride had already been in question with that whole bit about embarrassment preventing him from doing things right, he would've said 'fuck it' to the whole idea right there.

But, instead, there they were - and now it was happening for real.

"You remember what to do, right?" he muttered, while they waited for the music to start. Saruhiko had never been very good at rhythm games and still couldn't match his movements to the beat all that well, so there had been a lot of clumsiness and irritation and poorly masked embarrassment during the lessons. Which was - he had to admit - kind of cute. The way Saruhiko's frown almost seemed to set into a pout and his cheeks flushed just the slightest bit...

It almost made dancing the girl's part worth it.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, frowning. "Worry about yourself."

_This is kind of a team effort here, asshole._  He didn't get the chance to voice that, because the music started and they had to move into position, Saruhiko's hand sliding to his waist and his slinking up onto his husband's shoulder.

The song was an old favorite - one of the ones they'd listened to a lot with a set of shared earphones back in school. There were new favorites, but in the end there hadn't really been much discussion. They'd just... kind of gone with it. Yata wasn't sure what Saruhiko had been thinking, but for himself, it was like... everything now was so focused on the future that he wanted just a little piece of the past they'd shared. To remind him what was behind them as they moved forward.

For all the practice, Saruhiko had never managed to really relax at this; he was stiff and awkward even now, although he had memorized the movements without much trouble. The dance was pretty simple anyway, just a lot of stepping and swaying, so for the most part, Yata moved and Saruhiko matched him. Sort of a role reversal considering their positions, but whatever. Team effort.

No matter what they did, in the end they worked well together.

Thinking about it that way, this wasn't so bad. Yata managed a grin, watching his husband's face. "Not tripping up so much this time, huh?"

"Shut up," Saruhiko mumbled back at him. He was frowning, forehead creased with obvious concentration; it was strangely endearing.

Definitely not that bad.

The song came to an end not long after that, and they broke apart.

"Heh. Well, that's over." Even though it hadn't turned out as awful as he'd thought, it was still a relief to be able to move off the floor together as a couple of others trickled out onto it. Yata turned his head again to catch Saruhiko's eyes, and felt the smile spreading wide on his face again.

_Everything is better when it's the two of us._

"Onii-chan."

Megumi's voice was so quiet he almost didn't hear it, and just about ended up walking into her. "H-huh? Don't sneak up on me like that! What is it?"

She hunched her shoulders forward, looking bashful, and her eyes darted past him to Saruhiko for just a split second before she grabbed his collar and tugged him down so that she could whisper in his ear. "C-Can I dance with Saru, too?"

_... Seriously?_

When he glanced over and saw her large, wavering eyes and the slight jut of her bottom lip, though... Yeah. Seriously.

_For fuck's sake._  Well, whatever. It wasn't like he was the one who'd have to keep dancing, after all. "What? Why are you asking me?" Yata grinned at her, tugged her hand loose from his collar, and then turned back to Saruhiko, who was eyeing them both warily. "He's right there - just ask him."

Megumi's breath caught sharply. Saruhiko's eyebrows furrowed; his frown deepened, as if in suspicious. "Misaki - "

"You don't mind dancing with her, right, Saruhiko?" He cut in before his husband could continue, clamping a hand on his shoulder. "I mean, you're practically a pro now - you can handle it, right?"

Saruhiko stared at him like he was an alien. A glance to the side showed that Megumi's face had lit up, though - she was gazing forward with shining eyes, the hint of a bashful blush on her cheeks. "R-Really?" she breathed, hands fisting in her skirt nervously.

"Of course!" Yata responded confidently, and turned back to his husband with a grin. "Right?"

The struggle on Saruhiko's face was plainly visible. He glanced from Yata to his sister and back again, then clicked his tongue and let out a sigh, facing Megumi with clear resignation. "It's fine."

Megumi actually squeaked, face going even redder. "Th-th-thank you!"

"Mm." Saruhiko turned to head back onto the floor, shooting Yata a flat look as he went. Megumi practically tripped over her own feet scrambling to follow him.

_Heh._  Well, that was his good deed for the day, anyway. Yata grinned to himself, feeling satisfied, and moved to leave the dance floor.

 

**balance**

Dancing with Misaki had been fine. Dancing with Misaki's younger sister, who was fidgety and tense and barely looked at him as she kept missing steps and causing them to fumble, was not so fine.

_Why did she even ask me if neither of us can do this properly?_  It was irritating.

It didn't help that there was still that little edge of awkwardness around Misaki's family... that tiny little thread of doubt that he was really welcome. No matter how many times he was told that he was 'part of the family', some part of him could never quite shake the feeling that he was an outsider - an intruder, even. Someone lurking in the shadows like a thief, soaking up the warmth even while knowing it wasn't meant for him.

He was starting to accept that a lot of the things he told himself were lies.

That didn't make it any easier to figure out which ones were true, though...

The song ended, and Megumi jumped back from him, face red and barely looking him in the eye, and squeaked out what might have been a 'thank you' - or possibly just some kind of incomprehensible gibberish - before almost running back off the dance floor. Fushimi stared after her in perplexity.

_What was that even about?_

Well, it didn't matter in the end - and he had something to take care of, anyway. Fushimi glanced around, eyes scanning the crowd until he spotted the person he was looking for. Without waiting, he stepped off the dance floor and moved over towards her. "Lieutenant."

Awashima had been sitting on one of the chairs that were lining the dance floor, arms and legs crossed as she watched the dancers. She glanced up at him quizzically. "What is it, Fushimi?"

"I need to ask a favor." He didn't wait for her to question that. "Could you dance with Misaki?"

She looked a bit surprised, but recovered quickly. "Why are you asking?"

"I just danced with his sister."

"I saw." Awashima's gaze was steady. "And?"

"I don't have a sister to force on him in return," he admitted, blandly. "You're the closest thing."

She raised her eyebrows, and for a moment he thought she'd refuse right there. Then she shut her eyes, sighed, and made a soft, amused sound. When she opened them again, a small smile was building on her lips. "Very well. I can do that much for you, on your wedding day." Rising from her seat, she turned that smile on him, softening it just a bit. "Congratulations, Fushimi."

Then she was striding off briskly across the floor towards where Misaki was standing with his friends.

_I think I have to agree with the Captain's assessment._  She definitely did have a sadistic streak.

Well, it was working in his favor, so he couldn't complain. Fushimi watched with satisfaction as Misaki's expression went from moderately nervous to outright panicked while Awashima spoke with him, culminating in jerky movements and stuttered protests when she took him by the wrist to lead him back onto the dance floor.

_Serves you right._

"Saruhiko." A light touch on his arm interrupted that thought. When he turned, Anna was regarding him seriously. "Can I have a dance, too?"

He blinked at her, momentarily taken aback. "... I don't dance very well."

She offered him a small smile. "That's all right. I can guide you."

There wasn't much he could say to that. And it was Anna, so the idea wasn't totally annoying. Fushimi lifted his shoulders in a small shrug, before turning to head back onto the floor. "Let's go, then."

As it turned out, she hadn't been lying when she'd said she could guide him. He and Misaki had been a better match, of course, but Anna glided smoothly in the motions of the dance, the wide skirts on her dress shifting elegantly with each movement. "When did you learn to do this?"

"Izumo taught me." Her eyes met his again as they started to fall into a - relatively - comfortable rhythm. "Congratulations, Saruhiko." She smiled again, with a warmth that lit her face. "And thank you. Misaki's been so happy."

Somehow, it was hard to hold that gaze; Fushimi could feel the muscles at the back of his throat clench. 'Misaki's been so happy'. The implied 'with you' hung in the air between them, unspoken, and he wasn't sure what to do with the rush of longing. That he was capable of making someone happy - making  _Misaki_  - happy... It was one of those simple truths that still made the tiny, fading voice at the back of his head whisper, "lies".

And yet... he really did want to believe it. He  _should_  believe it.

One day, maybe. Hopefully.

"You're happy, too," Anna said quietly, into the silence that had fallen between them, "aren't you, Saruhiko?"

That question was easier. Fushimi closed his eyes briefly - as long as he could without stumbling - and thought of Misaki tangled in the covers beside him in the mornings; chatting at him across the table over meals; smiling at him with open, unself-conscious affection.

Gazing at him with eyes full of overflowing emotion when they exchanged their rings.

"I'm happy," he murmured, so softly that he wondered if she even heard it - but when he opened his eyes, it was in time to catch her answering nod.

Over the top of her head, he caught a glimpse of Misaki struggling to dance stiffly, as far away from Awashima as he could manage to be while still keeping his hand on her waist, his head tilted awkwardly as he kept his gaze resolutely fixed away from her and his face bright red. She looked faintly exasperated with him.

Fushimi couldn't help but smile to himself, just a little.

"Um. Saru." As the song ended and he parted from Anna, Minoru's voice cut in tentatively from beside him. When he turned, Misaki's younger brother looked tense and a bit awkward, eyes darting from Fushimi to Homra's King with a kind of nervous energy. "Could I - I mean, would you mind - that is... ?"

_Now what?_  Fushimi frowned at him, a little unnerved by the behavior.  _Don't tell me..._

"I'll go then." Anna stepped back, offering one last smile for him and a small nod to Minoru. "Thank you, Saruhiko." Then she turned to leave the dance floor.

A quick sideways glance showed Misaki's brother staring wistfully after her, hands twitching with agitated nerves - and then he abruptly went slack, hanging his head in a kind of agonized resignation. "Again..." he moaned, almost too low to be heard.

_This kind of thing, huh?_  Fushimi clicked his tongue, not really sure whether he should make some move to try and comfort him - was it expected, since he was technically part of their family now? Hopefully not. He thought back to Megumi's embarrassed retreat earlier, and then shifted his gaze to find Misaki scratching the back of his head with a red face and his eyes fixed somewhere just to the side of Awashima's face as he stumbled through excusing himself.

_I guess it's a family trait, after all._

 

**history**

Yata wasn't really a fan of wine, but that was all there was for alcohol at their wedding, and after dancing with Awashima, he needed alcohol. With a couple of glasses down, most of the tension had gone and he was feeling just a bit buzzed, which put him in a very good mood for when a few of Saruhiko's co-workers came over to where he and some of his friends were standing near the back of the room.

"Yata-saaaan!" one of them called out to him loudly as they approached, red-faced and exuberant. "Hey, we were all wondering, how'd you and Fushimi-san meet?"

The question was so unexpected that all he could do was blink at them for a moment. "... Eh?"

One of the others with him, obviously not quite as drunk, made some kind of nervous, waving motion as the little gathering of Homra members turned to look at them. "Sorry - we were just - "

"Huh? Oh." The moment passed; Yata grinned at them, straightening. "Don't worry about it! Saruhiko hasn't told you guys, huh? Hah, figures that guy would keep secrets for no good reason!"

"More like everyone's too scared to ask him," one of the blue uniformed guys muttered, almost too quietly to be caught.

Yata was ready to make a comment about how typical that was, but was interrupted by Kamamoto coughing lightly. "Yata-san, you never told us about that either."

"What, really?" He frowned, glancing around at the others and getting back a few shrugs and some blank looks. "I could've sworn... Anyway, it's not like you guys ever asked me! I'm just supposed to decide on my own that I should tell you random shit, or what?"

Kamamoto shrugged, a bit awkwardly. "That's not what I - "

"Well, whatever - I'll tell you." He was in a pretty good mood, after all. Yata quickly thought back to that day - it was something he still remembered clearly, even now. "I was just heading home on my bike after class, and I happened to - "

"'After class'?" The loud-mouthed one from before cut in, eyes widening with almost comical surprise. "How old were you guys?"

"Hah? You don't even know that much?" Yata crossed his arms, a little irritated by the interruption. "First year middle school."

"Really? That long ago?" another of the Scepter 4 officers - a taller guy with short, somewhat messy brown hair - mused, looking thoughtful. "You've known each other a while, huh?"

Another of them nodded. "I wonder what Fushimi-san was like at that age..."

"Think he was more friendly?"

"There's no way, right?"

"Oi!" Yata scowled at them all, more than just a little annoyed by then.  _These guys are worse than kids._  "You wanna hear the story or not?"

The comments faded off into somewhat sheepish silence.

Better. "Okay, so like I was saying, I was heading home on my bike, and I happened to overhear some third years trying to mug another kid." He could remember his mood from back then, full of reckless confidence and pride - it was kind of stupid now, so he didn't really want to dwell on it. "Of course I jumped in and told them to cut it out" - not like they needed to know the details - "and then anyway, it turned out that kid was Saruhiko."

"Fushimi-san was being mugged?" The brown-haired guy blinked at that, then frowned, his brow furrowing. "Somehow, I just can't picture it..."

"Wouldn't he just tell the bullies they're worthless scum or something?"

"And then pull a knife on them."

"Yeah, that sounds more like something Fushimi-san would do."

"Standing up to bullies - that's just like you, Yata-san!" Kamamoto clapped him on the shoulder with boisterous enthusiasm.

He grimaced, feeling a bit awkward about it. "Y-Yeah, well..." The memory wasn't one he looked back on with any particular pride - not just because of how it had ended, but his own attitude and some of the circumstances surrounding it gave him mixed feelings. Not regret, exactly, but... Well, whatever. It was in the past and he wasn't going to explain his own foolishness in front of the whole group. "Couldn't just let it pass."

"So, you saved Fushimi-san from bullies?" one of the other Scepter 4 members asked, eyes bright behind a pair of round glasses. "Isn't that kind of like something out of a book?"

When he put it that way... Yata shrugged, going for a casual cool response. "Right, I - "

"Did nobody any good, and got beat up yourself," a very familiar voice drawled from his right - when he jerked his head in that direction, Saruhiko raised an eyebrow at him from outside the group circle. "Don't forget the important details of the story, Misaki."

Yata scowled at him.  _Bastard. You didn't need to say that..._  "How is that an important detail?"

"I wonder about that..." Saruhiko smiled, slow and condescending. "Wasn't it you jumping in like an idiot that caused things to escalate in the first place?"

"Hah?" He glared back, scowl deepening. "The hell are you talking about? Things got messy because you were throwing out all those arrogant comments! Remember all that crap about not wanting to touch stuff anymore after they'd touched it?"

"See,  _that_  sounds like Fushimi-san," someone in the Scepter 4 group muttered.

One of Saruhiko's eyebrows twitched. "The only reason it came to that in the first place is due to your interference, right?"

"Hah! As if you'd have kept your mouth shut if I wasn't there!" Yata seized his advantage, managing to smirk back through the irritation. "Anyway, it was you who forgot all about the consequences and made things worse later, wasn't it?"

Saruhiko's eyes narrowed, lips curling down into a frown. "And wasn't it you who said that the way I responded was 'so awesome'?"

"I assumed you had a fucking  _plan_  at the time, you - "

"Next question!" That was the enthusiastic one from Scepter 4 again, cutting into their argument unapologetically. Some of his co-workers were giving him doubtful looks, as if wondering whether to drag him away from this situation. "Who confessed first?"

A sudden rush of panicked embarrassment hit Yata at that; he turned hastily with his fists already clenched, vaguely noting that Saruhiko had stiffened at the same moment.

"N-n-none of your goddamn business!" he snapped, at the same time as his husband retorted darkly with, "Don't ask stupid questions like that, idiot."

They exchanged a quick, startled glance.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue and immediately turned away, the faintest hint of red coming up on his cheeks. "I'm not hanging around for this ridiculous conversation anymore," he muttered, already moving away from the now-silent group even before he'd finished speaking.

"O-oi..." Yata stared after him, nonplussed.  _Don't just run off and leave me after all that, asshole!_

"What's the matter, Yata-san?" Kamamoto asked, sounding mildly concerned.

"Huh? Uh - nothing." He scratched the back of his head, feeling a lot less buzzed and a lot more flustered now, and tried to move past the moment. "Just - just never mind about that dumb question, okay?"

No way in hell was he ever going to admit that neither one of them could remember to this day who'd been the first to initiate a tear-soaked kiss in the middle of a mess of hugging and crying and painful feelings. Yata clenched a hand over the breast of his jacket, feeling his face grow hot at the memory. He could still easily recall the feeling of that soft press of lips against his, and the way his heart had jumped with a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and suppressed longing. The remembered sight of Saruhiko's wet eyes behind the crooked, slightly fogged shield of his glasses and the way they'd caught their breath almost in unison, hesitating for just that brief instant before simultaneously leaning back towards each other for more, were clear in his head, even now. The moment had been too emotionally charged to really be clear who started it - or if it had just kind of happened. He couldn't deny that it was good, but...

_There's no way in hell these guys need to know that stuff!_

Some history just really shouldn't be shared with others.

 

**gratitude**

It was starting to get late, and the party was winding down - Yata's family had already left a while back, after congratulating both of them again - but it seemed like he'd just turned away for a _second_  and now he couldn't find his damn husband anywhere.

_Where the hell did he go?_

He spotted Akiyama talking with another of Saruhiko's co-workers - one of these days he was really going to have to learn all of their names - and made his way over there. "Oi, have you guys seen Saruhiko anywhere?"

"Fushimi-san?" Akiyama blinked, then frowned thoughtfully. "Not recently, sorry."

"He was talking with the Captain last I saw," the other man offered helpfully, and nodded off to the right a ways. "You should ask him."

Yata's gaze turned in the direction of that nod, and his stomach curled into a little knot of annoyance when he spotted the Blue King. "Yeah," he agreed without enthusiasm, "thanks."

He didn't think he really  _hated_  Saruhiko's boss - there were a lot of things he'd come to terms with years ago, and whatever lingering resentment was left was mostly just the dying embers of a fire he'd stopped feeding. It was hard to put all of that stuff aside, though. Hard to look at the sword hanging from his belt and know what it had been used for. Hard to look at that calm, confident face and know that its owner had inspired Yata's best friend to leave him behind.

Even knowing now that neither of those things had been as simple as he'd thought, it was hard.

Steeling himself, Yata moved past Akiyama and across to where his target was standing at the edge of the dance floor, observing the last pair of dancers out there. "Hey. Blue King."

That uncomfortably keen gaze turned on him. "Oh, Yata-kun. This is a pleasant surprise."

Something about the way this guy said his name really got on his nerves.  _At least he stopped with the whole 'Garasu-kun' thing._  All the same, Yata had to fight the urge to scowl. "I'm looking for Saruhiko. You seen him?"

"I believe Fushimi-kun mentioned earlier that he wanted to get some fresh air." There was no hint of amusement or calculation in the man's expression, at least - those were things Yata had come to dread whenever he had to deal with Saruhiko's boss. "You might have some success if you check outside."

"Right. Thanks." It was more likely that Saruhiko had had his fill of being around people and used the 'fresh air' bit as an excuse to go off by himself - but looking at the Blue King's small smile, Yata got the feeling he already knew that and just wasn't blunt enough to come out and say it.

_He knows Saruhiko pretty well, after all..._  He hesitated a moment, briefly considering an uncomfortable truth he didn't like admitting most of the time. In those painful years when they'd been separated, it wasn't like he could've watched out for Saruhiko himself. But someone had. Well, more than just some _one_ , but there was definitely one particular person...

He really didn't want to think about how things might have gone if there was nobody to do it at all.

"Hey. So." Yata rubbed the back of his neck, looking off to the side in the hopes that it would be easier to get the words out. If he didn't say this now, he probably never would - and it was his wedding day, so he couldn't be blamed if he got a little sentimental. "I thought I should - that is - just - thanks. You know. For - for a lot of things." At that, he forced himself to bring his gaze back up, looking at the Blue King seriously. "Saruhiko's not good at saying things honestly, but I can tell he's - you know - happy."

There was a moment of not-quite-uncomfortable silence between them; somehow, that canny gaze had an air of patient expectation to it.

Yata cleared his throat, fidgeting a bit, and added, "Anyway, I'm grateful. That's all I wanted to say. See you, Blu - ehm." He took in a breath, set his shoulders, and finished, "Muna... kata."

That little edge of amusement he'd expected before seemed to spark to life in Munakata's eyes. "Well spoken, Yata-kun. I accept your gratitude." There was a brief pause, and then he added, more seriously, "I hope you'll accept mine as well."

Some of the tension that had built between his shoulder blades eased off a little at that. "Yeah, sure." Yata broke out in a wide grin, a little curl of satisfaction forming within him as he turned to head for the door. "See you around."

For the first time, he thought he actually wouldn't mind seeing that guy around.

 

**bond**

It was actually warmer outside than it had been inside, which was a little surprising but not necessarily bad. Fushimi had moved a short ways from the entrance of the hall, walking on the level ground just above the wide set of steps that led down to the parking lot, until he reached the point where the walkway turned sharply to the left along the side of the building. From there, he couldn't be seen easily by those leaving the hall, but it was still quiet and the air was easier to breathe.

Not that he had disliked the celebration - it wasn't at all unpleasant, if he was being honest - but there was a limit to how much time he could spend around so many people before he started to feel stifled and uncomfortable.

_Well, it's almost over now, anyway._

It was almost over, and he was married to Misaki. Fushimi absently ran a finger along the smooth edge of the ring. He was going to have to get used to it; he'd never really worn a ring before. More than that, though...

_Misaki put it on me._  Somehow, that thought made his throat clench painfully. The tip of his finger trembled slightly where it rested against the polished metal, and it was difficult to breathe.

It was ridiculous, really. He'd maintained all along that there wasn't any particular significance to this wedding. It was a celebration of something they'd decided between them a long time ago. The rings were a token. In the end, this whole business was overrated.

In the end, Misaki's eyes had glistened when he slid the ring on.

In the end, Misaki's honest feelings for him had been declared in front of everyone.

In the end...

They were together, and would continue to be from now on. Fushimi had accepted that in his head, although he was aware that there were still some walls around his heart that he'd built without knowing and had no idea how to tear down. Today, he thought maybe at least a couple of those unconscious defenses had collapsed.

"So you're out here after all." Misaki's voice cut into those thoughts; when he turned, he found himself being fixed with a fond grin. "Should've figured it out sooner. You got sick of being social?"

"I can only take so much idiocy in one night," Fushimi answered lightly, and allowed a small smile to build on his lips in response.

"Heh. Right." Misaki stepped closer to him, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. There were electric lanterns that had been set at strategic points along the front of the building, but the corner where Fushimi was standing was shaded, and the timing and placement of that movement gave the impression that Misaki had left the light behind in order to stand next to him.

The visual trick wasn't unappealing.

"So what are you doing, anyway?" Misaki went on, unaware as always. He turned his head to the right and up, towards the sky. "Stargazing?"

He hadn't been, but it didn't really matter. "It's Tanabata - isn't that one of the things you do?"

"Huh. I guess." Misaki frowned up at the sky for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration. "Which ones were the stars from the legend again?"

Fushimi followed his gaze, took a few seconds to catch his bearings, and then moved to stand by his husband's shoulder and leaned in close to point it out. "Altair is there - that's Hikoboshi." He waited a second to be sure that Misaki was looking in the right direction and then added, "If you look at the stars just beside it, they form a line. Follow that" - he slid his finger out a bit, along that invisible line - "and there's Vega - Orihime."

"Oh yeah, I see it now." Misaki stared up at the sky for a moment, a little bit of wonder in his gaze, and then turned to smile at Fushimi again. "How do you keep all this kinda stuff in your head all the time? It's like you know everything."

His face was close. Fushimi felt the familiar pleasant stir in his chest; the comforting sense of 'Misaki is near me'. He lowered his hand. "It's not that difficult."

"You always say that." Misaki's eyes softened with affectionate warmth; he reached out to grasp Fushimi's hand in his, twining their fingers together. "I can't figure out if you're telling me I'm dumb for not being able to do it or if you really just have no idea how awesome you are."

There was something nostalgic in those words. Fushimi shut his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply and catching the faint odor of wine and sweat from the evening entertainment mingled with Misaki's familiar unique scent. "It's been a while since you called me that."

"Yeah, well, I'm feeling generous tonight." He felt the shift when Misaki leaned in towards him, and didn't bother to open his eyes even as he tilted his head to meet the kiss partway. Misaki's lips moved gently against his, a kind of conscious softness to the kiss that tugged at Fushimi's heart. It was like the rest of the world closed off around them, momentarily pausing in its activity as he basked in full awareness of all the little things. Misaki's fingers tightening against his. Misaki's breath brushing his cheek with its fleeting warmth and stinging-sweet scent. Misaki's mouth pressing against his with warm affection, as if he were trying to fit all of his feelings into that simple contact.

There was an almost painful sweetness to it.

They broke apart slowly. When Fushimi opened his eyes, it was in time to meet his husband's gaze from just inches away. Misaki smiled at him, open and full of emotion as always. "I love you, Saruhiko."

The words always sent a little shiver down his spine, but somehow in that moment, it wasn't difficult at all to answer honestly. "I love you, too," Fushimi murmured, conscious of the increased staccato beat of his own heart against his chest. "Misaki."

In the end, it seemed like an official bond really did mean something to him.

 

**first night**

The door into their apartment had barely shut behind them before they were kissing deeply, lips and tongue engaged. Yata felt unusually warm, and it was difficult to breathe; his heart was going about a mile a minute. Saruhiko's movements were slow, almost sluggish; when Yata opened his eyes just a little, he could see that his husband's cheeks were flushed, eyes closed tightly.

_He's really into it right now..._

It was kind of exciting, but also kind of nerve-wracking. They already had sex regularly, so it wasn't like this was going to be new or anything - but it was the first time as a married couple, and that made it kind of special, right? It should be romantic. Or something. Maybe.

To be honest, after everything that had happened through the afternoon and evening, he was fucking exhausted, and it was hard to think properly about it.  _Shit... I hope I can actually get it up..._

He'd manage somehow, though. This was important.

Worries aside, it wasn't hard to nudge Saruhiko into moving backwards towards the bedroom as they continued to kiss, breaking apart here and there to tug off articles of clothing - jackets, ties, belts, shoes - and then crashing back together in a rush of lips and hot breath and fumbling hands. Yata's fingers felt about five sizes too big as he struggled to unbutton Saruhiko's shirt while his mouth was peppered with short, fervent kisses. His own shirt seemed to come off much more quickly under his husband's deft hands, though, and the fancy dress pants slid off his hips without too much resistance. He kicked them the rest of the way off as they fell onto the bed, still chasing each other's lips while squirming into some semblence of a comfortable position.

"Misaki," Saruhiko breathed out almost directly into his mouth, and it sent a shiver down Yata's spine. He scooted closer, sliding his hand up along the familiar line of his husband's torso, a little hint of arousal sparking to life within him at the feel of naked skin under his fingers.

_All right, I can do this..._  The bed felt really comfortable... but... their wedding night...

Saruhiko's free arm wound lazily around his shoulders, breathing deepening as Yata pulled back a ways so that they could look directly at each other. His eyes were heavy-lidded behind his glasses, and his face was still flushed, but he didn't move to continue the kiss.

There was a significant pause.

Saruhiko broke the moment of inactivity, shutting his eyes and pulling his arm back again to reach up and slide the frames off his nose. "I'm tired," he mumbled.

Yata stared at him, internally struggling with it, and then let out a huff of a breath. "Fuck." He smiled, slow and rueful. "Yeah, me too."

"Mm." Saruhiko rolled onto his back, reaching out to place his glasses on the bedside table. He turned his head on the pillow and regarded Yata with a kind of lazy contentment.

That was enough to make Yata's heart swell. He pulled up the covers and scooted closer, sliding his hand over Saruhiko's belly and planting a lingering kiss on his shoulder. "Tonight was good," he murmured.

"Mm."

"You had fun, right?"

"Mm."

Yata smiled to himself. "Everyone was really happy for us, too..." he mused.

"Mm."

"And it was kinda nice to - "

Saruhiko abruptly brought his free hand over to flick Yata in the forehead. "Shut up," he mumbled, a mix of sleepiness and irritation in his voice. "Go to sleep already, Misaki. I'm tired."

"You didn't have to do fucking hit me," Yata grumbled half-heartedly, rubbing at the stinging spot on his forehead.

A dismissive sniff was his response; Saruhiko had closed his eyes again.

Somehow, he couldn't help but smile, just a little. "Yeah, yeah... Goodnight to you too, jerk."

There was no response, but even so, Yata felt a kind of satisfaction settling in his heart as he let himself drift off to sleep.


	3. Afterward

**honeymoon**

One week was the most that Fushimi could take off from work at one time, so he'd gone ahead and booked all of it, even though their trip was only three days. Misaki had wanted to go to Okinawa - something about sun and the beach making the 'best' vacation - but he'd managed to avoid that without too much trouble by pointing out that July was just on the end of the rainy system bleeding into typhoon season. They'd settled on Kyoto instead, which was going to be humid and it would probably rain, but it was better than spending three days at the beach.

It had been easy to book, too, and the train they took on July 9th wasn't overly crowded.

Fushimi was just glad they hadn't tried to leave on the 8th. Aside from the fact that it had been nice to not have to deal with anyone on that first day after the wedding, they likely would have missed their train after making up for the lost opportunity the night before and fucking lazily first thing in the morning.

Not that he'd have regretted it. He'd take a sleepy, aroused Misaki over Kyoto any day.

But that hadn't happened, and now there they were in Kyoto, carrying their sparse luggage into the room at the hotel that Fushimi had picked out online.

It was a modern hotel with air conditioning, wireless access, and its own attached bathroom and toilet. There had been no discussion between them on that - Misaki was as much a fan of convenience as he was. Traditional lodgings - particularly in the middle of July - hadn't even been considered.

"All right, we're here!" Misaki dropped his bag carelessly beside the bed, and moved to pull the curtains back from the large window, grinning out at their view of the city. "Let's go do something fun, come on! We can check out some of the shrines." He turned that grin back over his shoulder, and it settled into more of a smirk. "You gotta pay your respects at the Fushimi Inari shrine, right?"

Fushimi clicked his tongue. "Don't be an idiot."

"Heh." Misaki abandoned the window and came back over to him, still smiling away like an idiot. "It's not too late to take my name, you know."

"I know." They'd talked about it very briefly before the wedding - him taking Misaki's surname. The notion of Misaki taking his had no real appeal to it, and given that it hadn't even been brought up as an option, he was fairly certain that much was understood between them. In a way, the idea of starting over - discarding everything that tied him to Niki and his wife - was tempting, but on the other hand...

_"Fushimi-kun."_

_"Fushimi."_

_"Fushimi-san!"_

Somehow, it was hard to let it go now.

_It's not just something that belonged to him anymore._

Either way, it'd be too much bother to have to adjust to being 'Yata Saruhiko', especially with Misaki insisting on everyone calling him by his surname. There would be confusion and irritation, and it just wasn't worth the effort when things were fine the way they were.

"Well, we should go there anyway - it's supposed to be pretty nice." Misaki had already moved past it, shrugging in a casually dismissive way. His grin was as bright as ever. "It's still really early, so let's go do something - come on."

Honestly, he would've been just as happy staying in the hotel room - it was being together that was important, not whatever there happened to be in Kyoto for them to see. Misaki didn't think of it that way, though - in his mind, since they were here, they might as well do as much as they could. _Which means I'll be dragged around everywhere by him, but whatever. It can't be helped._

Still, he could get a little amusement out of it. Fushimi lowered his eyelids, offering a lazy smirk. "What? You're that eager to go desecrating shrines already?"

"Hah?" Misaki frowned at him, raising an eyebrow. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"We're on our honeymoon, right?" He drew out the words slowly. "Public affection is required. Mi" - he set his index finger on his husband's lower lip, pressing lightly - "sa" - then allowed it to slide down under the cover of the lip to his chin - "ki" - and leaned in purposefully.

It had the desired effect; Misaki's face flushed deeply and his eyebrows twitched. "Wh-wh-what... th-the fuck...?"

Fushimi backed up, still smirking back at him.  _There it is - that reaction._  "You really are a hopeless virgin."

The scowl he got back was irritable. "Shut up about the virgin thing already! It's not like you can talk - we lost our virginity at the same goddamn time! In the same room! Together! To each other!"

"I'm aware of that." Fushimi raised an eyebrow at him. "I was there."

"Then quit calling me a virgin, for fuck's sake!"

He hummed low, taking in Misaki's flushed face and narrowed eyes with amusement. "Quit acting like one, and I'll consider it."

Misaki's eyebrow twitched again. "You are seriously so fucking annoying..." He let out a sharp huff of breath, and then seemed to let it go. "Whatever, we're going to Fushimi Inari. Come on."

Fushimi watched him stalk over to the door, feeling a certain amount of satisfaction, and then smiled to himself and moved to follow.

 

**night out**

It was starting to get dark when they made their way back to the hotel, and despite the fact that Yata felt pretty satisfied with the day - there was a lot of really cool stuff at some of those places - the weather had been kind of... shitty. It had been hot, but then it had also rained, and because it was still so muggy and hot, the dampness from the rain felt like some kind of gross sweat rather than being refreshing and cool. Yata was feeling tired and hot and sticky, and he didn't even have to look at Saruhiko to know that he probably felt the same.

Possibly worse, actually - although he hadn't really complained. Much. For him.

Yata pushed through the door into the hotel lobby and let out a long, relieved sigh. "Man, that feels good!"

"Finally," Saruhiko muttered - a glance in that direction showed his heat-flushed face and irritable expression clearly.

"Heh. But it was fun, right?" Yata grinned at him, taking the disgruntled response in stride. He'd been paying attention when they were out there, and he was pretty positive it wasn't just him who'd been enjoying it. The walk back from the station had honestly been the only bad part. "Let's go get some drinks at the bar before going back up."

If possible, Saruhiko's expression soured even further. He clicked his tongue. "Why do we have to do that?"

"Why not?" Yata challenged him, raising an eyebrow. He lowered his voice a little. "We're on a romantic trip for two - isn't it normal to go drinking together?"

There was also the fact that they'd never actually gone drinking together before... Yata had gotten drunk a few times, but it was always with his friends from Homra. And the (very few) times he'd seen Saruhiko drink, it had been in situations where someone had put something alcoholic in front of him - and most of the time, he took a few little sips and that was it.

_I want to see what it's like when the two of us do it together, at least._

"That's why room service exists," Saruhiko pointed out flatly. "If you want to drink, let's do it in the room."

Yata frowned at him. "Why'd we bother coming to Kyoto if we're just gonna sit in the room?"

"It wasn't to sit in a hotel bar."

_You're a serious pain in the ass sometimes..._  Yata shifted impatiently. "Ah, whatever, let's just try it!" Eating off of a tray in a hotel room didn't sound like fun; at least this was something different. "We'll just get some food and a couple of drinks and then we can go back to the room - how about that?"

Saruhiko stared at him for a second, frowning, and then clicked his tongue again. "Define 'a couple of drinks'."

The lack of an immediate refusal was pretty much the same as agreement. Yata grinned back at him. "Whatever, like two. Maybe three if we're having a good time." He took hold of his husband's wrist and turned to lead the way to the bar entrance. "I bet we won't even get buzzed."

 

**evening entertainment**

It felt like the door to their room was swimming in front of Fushimi's eyes as he carefully and deliberately unlocked it, pushing it open so that they could stumble inside.

Misaki was pressing him against that same door before it was closed, causing it to slam into the frame as he surged up and clumsily captured Fushimi's lips, his fingers hot where they clenched on Fushimi's biceps. The kiss was sloppy and intense, tasting strongly of alcohol, and it made his head spin even more, but in a much more pleasant way. He bent his arms and hooked his fingers in Misaki's shirt, tugging him in closer.

They broke apart, breathing heavily, and Misaki stared up at him with hazy desire, cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide. Fushimi could feel the heat on his own face - over his whole body, really - and smiled back without really thinking about it, lowering his eyelids as he reached up to pull his glasses off.

"Misaki," he murmured, and was vaguely aware of the way the 's' slurred out but couldn't bring himself to care. "Let's go" - he waved the hand with his glasses for emphasis - "inside."

For a moment, Misaki just blinked at him, looking like he couldn't quite make up his mind if that was a good idea or not, and then he nodded, with a kind of slow, exaggerated care. "Yeah," he mumbled back, and moved back, catching Fushimi's free hand as he turned.

It was just fine being dragged around. Fushimi squinted at the blurred view of Misaki's back as they made a beeline for the bed, and smiled lazily to himself. It was usually like this - Misaki leading him along, clumsily and purposefully.

_Perfect._

He thought that Misaki might push him down again - not that he'd have minded - but instead, he was yanked forward when Misaki sprawled back onto the bed, and had just enough presence of mind to reach out and drop his glasses onto the bedside table as he shifted to straddle his husband's hips.

Well, he didn't mind this either...

Misaki's hands were already sliding possessively up along his thighs as Fushimi adjusted himself comfortably, gaze narrow and hot. "Saruu... hiko," he murmured, drawing out the 'u' a little more than usual and dropping volume on the last two syllables. His eyes were shining, lips parted again - a thoroughly besotted look. "So... fucking beautiful."

Fushimi gazed down at him for a moment - at the vivid outline of roughly-cut chestnut hair pressed against the pillow; the light-boned face with its high cheekbones, pointed chin, and down-turned lips; those bright amber eyes that always looked fierce. Misaki's cheeks were flushed, his mouth slightly bruised from the earlier kiss, staring up with earnest desire as his fingers tightened almost painfully on Fushimi's hips.

"Don't," Fushimi mumbled, and purposefully leaned down to mouth the rest of the words almost into Misaki's lips, "steal my line."

The world felt like it was spinning around them as they clutched at each other, kissing frantically - but it didn't particularly matter.

 

**hangover**

The first thing that registered as Yata started to wake up was the pounding headache at his temples.

The second was the god-awful taste in his mouth.

The third was the distinct sour-queasy feeling at the pit of his stomach.

_Fuck._

It had actually been a while since the last time he was hung over - he'd almost forgotten how fucking awful it was. Yata grimaced, shifting a bit without opening his eyes, and became aware of a few more things.

He was naked under the covers, lying on his side.

There was more warm naked skin under his right hand.

The area between his ribcage and thighs felt uncomfortably sticky and gross.

_Oh. Right. That._

The memories were starting to come back now - somewhat foggy impressions of their bodies pressing together, pleasant friction below, gasps and moans and whispers of each other's names, and fumbling hands everywhere. It had definitely been good - kind of clumsy and messy, but whatever, sometimes it was better that way anyway.

And then apparently after flopping back against the bed in the aftermath of all that, they'd just passed out without bothering to clean up or drink water or do anything practical at all.

Not that that was all that unusual for him...

Yata cracked one eye open, winced at the way the light seemed to stab directly into his brain, and took in Saruhiko's sleeping face on the pillow directly next to him. His husband's mouth was slack, eyelids fluttering just a bit as he dreamed, and - in total - he looked peaceful and beautiful, like a work of art.

... His breath also reeked, and that really didn't help with the queasy feeling.

Shutting his eye again, Yata shifted to roll onto his back. The hand he'd had resting on Saruhiko's abdomen peeled off of it almost like a band-aid, and he couldn't help but grimace.  _Fucking gross._  It also made him uncomfortably aware of the stickiness of his own skin around that... lower region. Plus, now that he was awake and aware, his headache was demanding attention and he definitely had to piss.

_Guess I'd better deal with that first._  He pushed himself up reluctantly, wincing again when his head throbbed and his stomach gave a little warning churn. Sleeping off a hangover was usually the best plan, but he probably wasn't going to be able to sleep until he'd cleaned up a bit and emptied his bladder.

Hopefully without puking.

The hotel room was uncomfortably bright, with sunlight streaming in through the window - not  _direct_  sunlight, thankfully, but still not pleasant right at the moment. It wasn't a very big room, so stumbling to the toilet didn't take long. After relieving himself, Yata snatched up one of the cloths folded neatly on the counter by the sink, wet it down, and wiped off the caked-on remnants of their probably-not-quite-sex from the night before. He left the damp, dirty cloth in the sink when he was done, not really feeling like dealing with it properly.

His throat was dry, and his mouth still felt gross. There was a cup beside the sink, so he filled it up with water and took a long drink, then poured himself a second, swishing the water around in his mouth this time to wash out the awful taste and then spitting the mouthful into the sink.

_We're gonna need pain-killers or something..._  Yata looked up at his reflection in the mirror, which scowled back at him with blurry-eyed irritation. He really didn't feel like going to the effort right then. Actually, he really didn't feel like doing anything aside from going back to bed and sleeping until at least noon.

From the direction of the bed, he heard the sound of stirring, and then a distinct 'tch'.

Right, and then there was Saruhiko to deal with...

_Let's see how this goes._  He refilled the glass and headed back out of the washroom.

There was no sight of his husband any more - just a blanket-covered lump on the bed that sort of had the shape of a person. Despite his own discomfort, Yata couldn't hold back an amused huff at the sight.  _Really can't help it with this guy, huh?_  He made his way back to the bed, sitting on the spot he'd originally gotten up from and turning to face the miserable figure on the other side. "Morning."

No response.

Yata would've rolled his eyes if he didn't think it'd make his head hurt even worse. "I brought some water," he said. "Come on."

Still nothing.

_Seriously?_  "You're gonna feel worse if you don't drink it."

At that, he got back a muffled tongue click but no movement.

"Oi, I'm trying to help you here." He frowned at the blanket-wrapped form. "Saruhiko..."

"Shut up," a mumble almost too low to be heard came back from under the covers. "You're annoying, Misaki. Go away."

" _I'm_  annoying?" Yata pressed the heel of his free hand against the bridge of his nose, letting out an agitated breath. "Look, I'm not asking you to get up - just drink the fucking water, okay? You'll thank me later."

"You said something like that last night," Saruhiko grumbled, still not emerging from the cocoon he'd built himself into. There was a sullen undertone to his voice. "I'm not sure why I should have to trust your bad decisions."

"Hah?" Yata stared incredulously at the covered form of his husband. "How's this just  _my_  bad decision? It's not like you were rushing to get water or clean up or anything last night, either!"

There was a brief pause. Then, "Your voice is too loud."

"You're not the only one feeling shitty this morning, y'know!" He scowled ferociously, hoping it would somehow penetrate the shield of blankets and burn his annoyance right onto that thick fucking skull. "Just come out and drink the goddamn water so we can both go back to sleep! My fucking head hurts, you asshole!"

There was a moment of stiff silence.

Yata was just getting ready to say something even ruder, when the covers suddenly shifted, and Saruhiko's head emerged from the top, red-faced and with his hair askew. His face seemed to pull inward as the light hit it, lips curling down and nose scrunching with obvious discomfort.

For a moment, Yata just blinked at him.  _That was... somehow really cute._

The moment passed quickly. Saruhiko's eyebrows lowered into a thoroughly surly expression as the rest of the muscles on his face seemed to relax. He squinted at Yata, sluggishly moving to sit up with the blankets settling around him like some kind of makeshift robe. "Give me the glass, then."

"Eh?" Startled out of his momentary reverie, Yata blinked rapidly, and then hastily held the cup out, almost spilling some of the contents. "R-right. Here."

The narrow-eyed look he got as Saruhiko took it from him was wary. "What's your problem?"

"Huh? N-nothing." Yata scratched at the back of his head, momentarily distracted from the various pains on his own body.  _There's no way I'm telling him._  "Just - just drink it. I'll get us some painkillers later."

Saruhiko frowned at him for another brief second and then seemed to decide it wasn't worth it and raised the cup to his lips instead, closing his eyes as he drank.

_Fucking finally._

Yata scooted up onto the bed, pulling some of the covers over his legs as he settled in. When his husband lowered the cup, he reached over to take it back and set it on the bedside table. "Was that so fucking hard?"

That narrow gaze slid back to him again; Saruhiko's frown deepened. Then, abruptly, he turned, wrapping an arm around Yata's waist and tugging him back down to the bed.

The wind rushed out of his lungs with a kind of 'whoosh' as his back hit the mattress. Yata struggled for breath, feeling his stomach lurch threateningly and his head give another sharp throb. He turned to glare at his husband once he'd caught his bearings again. "Did you really have to do that?"

"Mm." Saruhiko pressed his lips against Yata's shoulder, shutting his eyes. His hand slid around to the far side of Yata's body, fingers curling around the hipbone. "Shut up," he mumbled.

It was too much of a hassle to continue arguing about it. "Yeah, yeah." Yata grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it over them, relaxing in his husband's loose hold as he closed his eyes and trying to shut out the world again for a few more precious hours.

 

**memories**

Despite everything, Fushimi hadn't really been that upset to be returning to work. The wedding and honeymoon and the days spent at home together with Misaki had been filled with so many different emotions that he wasn't quite sure what to do with all of them. It was definitely not unpleasant, but it felt something like living in a bubble and there was still a tiny, instinctual fear within him of what might happen when the bubble popped.

Something like that was still so fragile.

The return to work was also a return to everyday life. The familiar routine seemed to shift everything back into a less dreamlike perspective.

He was married to Misaki, and things would carry on as usual. Nothing would end.

That comfortable feeling had lasted him right up until he'd walked in and caught sight of the banner sporting a gigantic blown-up picture of their awkward kiss from their ceremony with the words 'Congratulations and welcome back, Fushimi' printed boldly across the bottom of it.

_What._

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the monstrosity in front of him. There was red visible on both his and Misaki's faces (more noticeable due to the size of the picture) and their posture was stiff and uncomfortable, lips pressed together in a noticeably forced way. It was not exactly a proud photogenic moment - more of an embarrassment, really.

_Really..._

The room was conspicuously silent, too. Fushimi glanced around and found the members of the Special Ops division who were present all studiously avoiding his gaze. He clicked his tongue.

_There's really only one person who would think this was a good idea._

With that thought, he turned sharply on his heel and headed to Munakata's office.

The Blue King was putting together a puzzle at his desk, a cup of tea sitting off to the side a ways, but he looked up when Fushimi entered - without knocking - and smiled pleasantly. "Ah, Fushimi-kun, welcome back. I hope that your trip was - "

"Captain." There was no point in bothering with the pleasantries at this point. "Was that banner really necessary?"

Munakata's smile didn't dim even a tiny bit. "Showing support for an important team member who's just undergone a significant change in his life is part of the duty of a leader - wouldn't you agree?"

Fushimi could feel his own eyebrow twitch at that. "It's unnecessary. And unprofessional."

"Sometimes it's the unnecessary things in life that mean the most." Munakata leaned back in his chair, resting his hands in his lap with open satisfaction. "Professionalism must, at times, take a back seat to our human connections." His eyes met Fushimi's, and there was something warm and sincere behind that knowing, amused gaze. "Please accept my congratulations - and my happiness - Fushimi-kun."

There wasn't much he could say to that. Fushimi clicked his tongue, turning his gaze aside.  _You didn't need to say that much._  "I'm taking it down right away," he muttered.

"Oh? What a pity." The Blue King shifted his weight forward again. "I suppose it can't stay up forever, after all, but it was fun for the moment, wasn't it?"

Fushimi didn't feel like dignifying that with an answer. "Then I'm - " He stopped, gaze catching on a familiar-looking color at the outside edge of Munakata's puzzle, and his eyes narrowed as a terrible suspicion started to seep in. "What is that?" he asked sharply, stepping forward.

The suspicion was answered as he came close enough to get a full view of the partly-assembled puzzle. The reddish tint on Misaki's hair from the poor lighting during their dance was easily recognizable, and now he could see his own expression of agitated concentration on the puzzle's surface.

_... Seriously..._

"Hm?" Munakata glanced from him to the puzzle and back again, mildly. "Ah, yes. I took the liberty of having several of these made with some of the more memorable key moments." His smile was serene and untroubled, as if this wasn't one of the stranger and more disturbing things he'd gone ahead and done. "It's important to remember the good moments."

Fushimi stared back at him with flat disbelief. "Please feel free to forget everything in the future."

The Blue King chuckled, reaching for his teacup. "If you wish, I could have them displayed once I've completed the assembly. I think the halls could use a personal - "

"No thanks."

Munakata's eyes had a glint to them that Fushimi didn't entirely like. "Well, we'll see how things play out."

_This has to be a nightmare..._

He was already pulling out his PDA even before the door swung shut behind him as he left the office, wandering down the hall a ways while he brought up Misaki's contact information and pressed the button to make the call.

It was barely two rings before he heard a click on the other end, and then his husband's boisterous greeting. "Yo, Saruhiko! Good timing - I need to ask you someth - "

"Misaki." He cut that off sharply, not bothering to mask the irritation that laced his voice. "Explain something to me. How did the Captain get our wedding photos?"

" _Hah?_  What the hell are you talking about?" There was genuine bafflement in Misaki's voice. "I just got the pictures from Anna like half an hour ago. There's no way that guy could have copies of any of them!"

How aggravating. Fushimi clicked his tongue, his frustration mounting. "Well, he does." At the very least, he could share this annoyance. "He made puzzles out of them, in fact."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The outraged disbelief in Yata's voice was somehow satisfying. "That's creepy as hell! There's definitely something wrong with that guy!" There was a brief pause, and then he added, with a note of baffled frustration, "And I got a fucking invitation from him for the three of us to meet for lunch once a week 'going forward'. What the hell does that even mean? Is he being serious?"

There was a headache building at Fushimi's temples. He clicked his tongue again.  _What are you up to now, Captain?_  "Did you say something to him at the wedding?"

He was answered by the sound of a sharply in-drawn breath and then silence.

Not a good sign. "Misaki?"

"Look, I only talked to him for a fucking  _minute_ , okay?" There was a defensive edge to Misaki's voice. "I just wanted to say thanks for... lots of things. You know. Whatever. Anyway, I didn't say I wanted to hang out with him! What the fuck is wrong with that guy? And what does 'going forward' mean? More than once?"

_Indefinitely, knowing the Captain..._  Fushimi scowled, thoroughly annoyed with this new development. "You shouldn't encourage him."

"How the hell was I supposed to know he'd take that as encouragement? Anyway, now what? What do I say?"

Well. If he was going to have to suffer... "You approached him. Deal with it yourself."

"What the fuck? You're supposed to have my back now, you asshole!"

"Oh? Was that written in the contract somewhere?"

"For better or for fucking worse, bastard!"

"That part is fine," Fushimi drawled, letting the condescending note that he knew irritated his husband slip into his voice. "It's not like I'm divorcing you over this - I'll be by your side through the whole thing." Somehow, he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at that. "Watching it happen."

"Saru..." Misaki's voice lowered to a growl. "You bastard..."

"You married me," Fushimi reminded him, and shut his eyes for a moment, feeling some of that comfortable feeling from earlier return. Listening to his husband sputter at him over the phone, he couldn't help but feel reassured.

In a moment like this, he could even believe 'forever' was real.


End file.
